To Start Anew
by Mystic Lady Fae
Summary: After the fire, Erik has fled Paris for the American South. He vows to remain alone since loosing Christine, but a Phantom should always expect the unexpected.
1. New World, New Beginnings

Disclaimer: Despite my many attempts to kidnap, lure, or bribe Erik into my possession, all have failed, so he (and anything Phantom related) is not mine.

AN: Yay for a new story! I hope that this lives up to the same standards of my first fic. All locations and characters are fictional things from my mind (except Erik), so if anything sounds like a real person/place/thing, it's only by pure coincidence, so please don't sue or tell me that it's "wrong." Also, same as in the previous story, Erik will have the same naturally dark hair (because I want him to). Please don't hesitate to review and let me know how I'm doing! Thanks, and enjoy!

**Chapter 1: New World, New Beginnings**:

Staggering out of the Opera House, the Phantom turned and watched as his childhood home burned to the ground. Tears poured from his eyes as his mind played the recent events over and over again, torturing him with the fact that Christine had left him for another, a man with a whole face who could give her the world of light as a gift.

'_And now my darkness is complete_,' he thought, falling to his knees as stones crumbled and wood changed to ash and dust before his eyes. '_I have nothing now_.'

They would find him and kill him for what he had done. All of those innocent people who had likely died in the fire, the kidnapping of Christine during _Don Juan_, and the near-murder of the Vicompt de Chagny…those were all crimes that he would have to pay for in blood.

'_My blood_,' he thought, gazing up at the collapsing structure. '_I have not paid for much in my life, and now it is time for them to collect it from me_.'

In his mind's eye, he could see the day of his death. He could see the crowds now, all of the people gathered around him as guards dragged him to the gallows. As he walked, they would begin throwing stones, vegetables, even human waste, all of it hurled at him as they began taunting him and cursing him for his crimes against Paris. Once the crowd had its fill, he would be hung, his feet dangling as his soul was released to go straight into the bowels of Hell. The mere thought of eternal torment both terrified and angered him.

'_I can't let that happen_…_I **won't** let that happen_.'

Pushing himself to his feet, he quickly made his escape to a nearby apartment he had rented. He had acquired it in his hopes to bring Christine there after she had agreed to marry and stay with him. After the chaos had settled down, he had planned to take them far away, possibly to Spain or Germany, where he could provide a good life for them both.

And now it was gone.

Slamming the door behind him, Erik once more fell to his knees, this time in relative safety. The sudden sound of metal hitting the ground in the room upstairs startled him out of his thoughts. It sounded like money falling…

At that moment, a wide grin spread across his face as a plan formed in the depths of his mind.

* * *

'_Who knew that a single boat voyage could be so strenuous_?' Erik thought to himself as the train rolled along towards its destination.

The soothing movements of the train were a welcome change from the constant churning of the ship he had been on for the past several weeks. On solid land, the swaying was gentle and only side-to-side, quickly making him drowsy in his own little sleeping cabin. At sea, the waves tossed everyone up, down, sideways, and every other ways a man could think of. It had been enough to drive him mad after a short time, and had made him vow never to travel that ghastly way ever again in his life.

Even though he'd traveled in first class and had privacy away from others, his trip to the Americas by ship had still been a strain on his mind and body. Seasickness had plagued him for days before he'd finally taken an effective medicinal draught, given to him by a sympathetic manservant that had been assigned to him. After that, he'd eaten sparingly and in the remoteness of his cabin, staring out the window, reading, or composing music in his head without the benefit of an instrument before him. It had been hard, but he had done it.

And now he was here: America, the Land of Opportunity, a place to start a new life away from the prying, searching eyes of Paris. Here he did not have to fear anyone looking for him, he would not have to cautiously look around every corner to be sure the way was clear and safe for him to travel. In America, it was highly doubtful that anyone would have heard of him. And if they had, would they actually believe the tales, or pass them off as stories made up by the French to attract visitors to the city? Well, it didn't matter. He was here now, and it was to be his new home.

But America was a large place. Where could he settle away from others but still be near civilization? The West was still being explored and was too rough for his tastes, and he required an air of civility and elegance for him to work; a log cabin or a crude shack in the middle nowhere was _not_ for composing! The upper East Coast was far too crowded and too much like Paris, so that left only one place.

Erik could only hope it was the right one.

* * *

From his perch in his one-horse carriage, Erik surveyed the property before him. It was wide, with rolling fields of flowers and trees all around it. There was a great deal of land between him and his nearest neighbors, which was perfect for Erik's dislike of constant visitors. The young fool who had sold this prime bit of property was overjoyed to be getting such a large sum for his ancestral home, which had been in his family for generations. Erik hadn't understood why he would sell such a fine place to a French stranger.

On the other hand, the place was a tad rundown; the windows were cracked or chipped, and the chimney probably could use a good cleaning, but the house was still in good working order. The white paint was peeling off and would have to either be completely stripped off or redone, and several shutters had either fallen off or been removed and never replaced. Ivy grew up the sides on the smooth, white marble pillars in the front, but that was charming rather than annoying. Yes, the ivy would stay, though the obvious moss growing up along the porch would have to be scrapped off. Oddly enough, there were a few burn marks on bits of the house, though from what, he did not know.

'_Something about a war a decade or two ago_,' Erik thought as directed the horse and carriage forward. The young man hadn't been clear on that.

To his surprise, as he arrived at the front porch, a group of three dark-skinned people came out to meet him. An older black man and a black woman of about the same age stood there, looking at him with curiosity in their dark eyes. The man, tall and well-built, was dressed in a black butler outfit and looked to be about sixty years old. The woman wore a plain green dress with a white apron over it, apparently filling the role as cook. The third person was also female, a woman in her thirties, and looked to be a maid. Puzzled, Erik stepped down from the carriage and tried not to draw back as the two people came forward to greet him.

"Sir, I'm Marcus Jones, and I'll be your butler, stable hand, and personal servant," the black man said, bowing slightly. "My wife, Jill, her real name is Jillian, but everyone calls her Jill for short, is to be your cook. My daughter, Laura, is the cleaning maid and will also run errands as needed."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall Mr. Clark informing me that servants were included along with the property," he said. "And slavery is illegal now, is it not?" The three others nodded. "So why are you still here?"

"We've got no place else to go, sir," Laura replied, suddenly looking fearful. "We've been here for our whole lives, and our grandpa before us was born here. You won't throw us out, will you?"

Erik sighed. "No, I won't." He suddenly straightened up, standing at five inches above Marcus's head. "You may stay, under one condition: you leave me in peace and quiet. I am a man who enjoys solitude, and you will only come when called for. I dislike noise very much, unless I am the one who makes it. Other than that, feel free to do what you please." He waved his gloved hand towards the carriage, and Marcus practically jumped forward to deal with it. Jill and Laura stepped aside and followed him as he entered the house.

* * *

It was his first visit to the home, though he had seen drawings of the interior and exterior of the place before he had bought it. Upon his arrival in the southern states of America, Erik had waited a whole week for his funds to be successfully transferred overseas so he could access them. Decades of embezzling money from the Populaire's managers had added up quickly, and now Erik was free to spend it as he willed.

The first thing he had done was to purchase the latest fashions in clothing (which should be considered out of fashion by the time they arrived from Europe). Next came the need to acquire a home to live in. He had hired an agent to find him a suitable house, a large place where he could loose himself in his music, his painting, and his sculptures. Many drawings and descriptions of homes were tossed aside as too small, too overly done, or just plain tacky. Then, one day, a young man with orange hair and green eyes walked into Erik's hotel room.

Joseph Clark had been at the ends of his ropes, trying to find a better life in New Orleans, Louisiana, when he heard about Erik's search for a home. Joseph was on the last bit of his family's money and his own savings in a quest for a new life, and had immediately raced for the hotel in order to sell his family's summer home in southern Virginia.

"I can assure you, Mr. Rousseau, the house is in wonderful working order," the young man said, his tone nervous, but honest. "The War has cost my family dearly over the years, and I am desperate. Selling this house would bring my parents and I a tidy sum, and since we have rarely used the place, it would be of no great sentimental loss for us to sell it to someone who could enjoy it far better."

Joseph had then begun drawing abstract images of the rooms of the home's interior, describing each one in detail even as he drew it onto the paper. What caught Erik's attention was that the home included a room that was a mix of both a study and a library, a room that had thick drapes to keep out the sun and protect any books from damage. There was a spacious dining room for casual days, a far larger one for banquets (though Erik would never hold one!), a large ballroom, and best of all, a music room that was larger than any other house previously offered to him.

Luckily for Erik, the boy had the manners and appearance of an honest man, and was a decent enough artist to draw accurate sketches of the rooms. The furniture was in pristine condition, he was assured, and thanks to the remaining servants, it was spotless as well. The outside needed work, but since the Clark's had rarely lived in it, much less cared for or looked at it, it wasn't something that he could argue against. The Clark family had been extremely fortunate that the house and the nearby town of Rockford had been so far away from major roads, sparing it from being destroyed by troops from the Armies during the War.

After displaying drawings of the rooms, assuring Erik that the furniture would be included in the sale, _and_ describing the area around the plantation, Joseph had walked out of the Blue Crown Hotel a much richer man than he'd entered it.

* * *

"It will do," Erik said aloud as he looked around. Luckily everything was just as he had thought it would be, or else he would have had to hunt down Joseph Clark and teach the young man a difficult lesson. He bit back a grin after hearing the servants give a sigh of relief. "I would like dinner at seven o' clock, Jill, if you please."

"Yes, sir," the older woman replied, grabbing her daughter and running for the kitchen, even though dinner was four hours away.

Sighing, Erik headed towards the music room to drown his thoughts in his piano.

* * *

It had taken him longer than expected to get his home just as he wanted it. The organ he had ordered had taken over a month to arrive, and setting it up had taken just as long. But it had been worth it. He had tuned the instrument to perfection, and now he was able to play and compose to his heart's content. Honestly, how had he survived two whole months in this house without it? True, others might find the organ a loud and offensive instrument, but Erik loved to channel his emotions through the black and white ivory keys, and thankfully, the Jones family did not mind it, either. Apparently the vast silence of the house was too much for them at times.

'_I can see why_,' Erik thought to himself as he tapped a few notes to warm up his fingers.

The house stood only two levels high, but it extended over a great deal of space. Each room was incredibly spacious, sporting high ceilings and could make anyone feel insignificant. Even the closets were vast, though for a man of Erik's tastes, it suited his wardrobe quite well. And should his own closet in the master bedroom run out of space, there were the closets in the five guestrooms that he could use…

'_But what am I ever going to use that ballroom and parlor for_? _Needless to say, I am not one for having guests_.'

But at least those rooms provided Laura with something to clean. The poor woman was so good at cleaning things that, even a week later, the object or room remained clean of dust! She even asked Erik to drop things or dirty them on purpose so that she could keep busy. She claimed that there would be more for her to clean up if he weren't such a tidy man already and if he would have guests over for tea, cigars, or drinks.

When she had first proposed that idea six months ago, Erik had immediately stopped that idea in its tracks. No guests would ever cross his doorstep, not to visit a man with a face like his. The Jones' had no qualms about his appearance, and Laura and Jill had begged him to make friends with the other landowners and attend parties, but Erik refused to put himself on display for others to talk about behind his back. No one knew of his past or his twisted face here, and he did not want them to; after all, he knew from experience what people did to those who were different.

'_No, it's better that I am alone in my house with my music_…_and my solitude_.'

With that thought, Erik once again lost himself in the notes of his instrument.

* * *

Eight months after he'd arrived at his new residence, Erik did his best not to make eye contact with others as his carriage rolled down the main avenue of Rockford. He had rarely shown his face in town, and many people were curious about the isolated newcomer. Erik had not wanted to go into the busy place anymore than he had to, but since a new violinmaker had set up shop in the center of town, he felt that this might call for one of his rare trips into the public eye.

It was said that this violinmaker had exquisite talents in crafting instruments, incredible pieces that reflected the personality and musical tastes of those who bought from him. However, having Mr. Damon Goodrich craft a violin for meant having to meet the man in person, and he _did not_ make house calls! If you did not meet him, you did not get an instrument, and that was final. So here Erik was, riding in his carriage and being driven by Marcus, who was just happy that his master was out of the house and in the sunshine.

As the horse and carriage pulled up to Goodrich's door, Marcus leapt out and opened the door to let Erik out. The masked man had barely set foot on the ground before he was approached by a rather jolly, round, elderly man who had a smile that was very catching to any to saw it. Even Erik had a hard time staying coldly impassive towards him. The short man walked up to him and offered a hand.

"Mr. Rousseau, it's so nice to see you! I'm Thomas Brooks, but you can call me Tom," he said, grinning.

Erik smiled in return and accepted the hand. "A pleasure, monsieur," he replied, bowing his head.

"Oh, none of that formality!" Tom chided, wagging a finger at him. "We're all friends here, you know, and as a member of this fine community, I'd like to invite you to dinner this evening at my home. I know my wife Martha would be happy to meet you, and we'd love to get to know you better."

"Dinner?" Erik could only stand and blink at him in surprise.

Tom laughed and smacked him on the back with a gentle, friendly hand. "Of course! We'll see you tonight, given that our cook makes enough to feed an army instead of just Martha and myself! No, no, don't refuse," he said, holding a hand up to stop any protests. "Just bring yourself and an empty stomach to my home. Your man knows where it is, since his wife and my cook are old friends."

Without another word, he walked away, leaving a very stunned Erik behind him.

* * *

As Erik soon discovered, having Tom and Martha Brooks as first-time friends in Rockford meant that a man has the entire town's approval in a matter of days. After having dinner at the Brooks' home, Erik soon began receiving invitations to light social gatherings, afternoon cigars with the men of the town, and formal balls and parties. Being the private man that he was, Erik refused the balls and parties, but would go to one afternoon cigar event (though he didn't actually participate in the vile habit), then progressed to attend an afternoon tea once every two weeks; being around chatty people (especially women) for three hours in a day was all he could stand.

Though he'd never admit it, it was nice to be around people who did not hate him for his appearance. It was surprising that, in America, people that did not avoid him like a plague. Many thought that, as a young man, he'd been wounded in the War and had fled to France before returning to the States. Some people actually knew about facial deformities, but did not think of Erik as a cursed man; they thought that perhaps a childhood illness or accident had left him scarred and believed that was why he wore the mask. Either way, he was accepted for the way he was and nothing more.

Then came a true turning point in Erik's life. On the one-year anniversary of his arrival in Rockford, Tom threw a "small" party for Erik to celebrate the occasion. In Erik's opinion, it had been a very grave mistake on Tom's part. This was because, up until the night of the party, Erik had done all he could to avoid the young female socialites; with this celebration, he had been forced into the public eye, particularly that of the available women.

To his surprise, most (if not all) of the young women or girls actually found him _attractive_. From the moment he'd arrived at Thomas' party, all of the marriageable women began fluttering their fans and eyelashes at him, trying to catch his attention and hopefully dance with him. Some even boldly approached him to flirt! He could not understand why, until Martha explained it to him.

"You _are_ a handsome young man, dear," the elderly woman said. She was a female equivalent to her husband: short, plump, white-haired, and endlessly jolly. "With that black hair and those green eyes, not to mention you're head and shoulders above every other man here, of course the young ladies are going to notice you! Well, that and the lovely large home you have with no wife to keep it for you."

Erik had thought that it had merely been his wealth that attracted the female eye, but never did he believe that they would find him physically attractive enough to want to marry him! There were other men who were also handsome and had money, so perhaps it was also the fact that he was from France that captured the female's attention.

However, Erik knew that he would never love again. No woman would want him after seeing his true face. They might be attracted to what appeared to be his 'handsome' side, the left half of his face, as well as the mysterious air of his mask, but they would not admire him so once he had shown them what lay beneath the white porcelain.

'_And I would eventually **have** to show her_, _whoever '**she'** is_.'

This was true. Whether before the marriage proposal, after it, or after the wedding ceremony, he would have to show his true face. He could imagine his betrothed or new bride screaming, fainting, or running away from him, calling him a beast and a monster, begging for him to release her from their engagement or marriage vows. Then he would be alone.

'_I **will not** have another incident like I had with Christine_,' he thought after the party. '_I would sooner die than have the past repeat itself_!'

And so he chose solitude. For the sake of his heart, as well as for others, Erik Rousseau would spend the rest of his life alone in his home, composing music and knowing that true love that was likely not meant to be.

'_Or at least…not for me_.'

* * *

AN: Aw, poor Erik! Don't worry, this will be a happy story, though there will be some lovely conflict in it just to make it interesting. Feel free to review and let me know how I'm doing! 


	2. A Diamond in the Rough

Disclaimer: I tried to steal the copyrights to the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing except my original characters/places/etc.

AN: Here's chapter two, where we will meet the Erik's love interest for the story. I hope people aren't too disappointed when she's not exactly the image of a Southern Belle, and I hope that she's not too Mary Sue or anything. But even if she is, please don't flame me! All flames will be used to light Erik's candles and to help keep a fire going in my own hidden underground lair. Thanks!

**Chapter 2: A Diamond in the Rough**:

Biting back a yawn, Erik finished the brandy in his glass and placed it on the tray being held by a waiting server. He was tempted to fetch another glass, but he had already finished his second. It would not do to get drunk at Martha's little tea party gathering, especially when she would never forgive him if he did.

'_For such a small woman, she can truly be intimidating when one of her events is ruined_,' Erik thought with a hidden grin as he looked at the old woman sitting near her husband.

The last time a young man had overly indulged in the alcohol, Martha had given the lad such a lecture and ultimatum that the boy had begged on his knees for forgiveness. The blubbering and slurred words had made Martha even more upset, but once he had sobered up, she had forgiven him and sent him away, "to think about his actions." Erik had tremendously enjoyed that spectacle, trying his hardest not to laugh at the pathetic fop's situation.

'_It's a pity that there isn't such an amusing incident today_,' he thought, flicking his eyes around the room, making sure that his gaze did not dwell on one part of the room for too long.

If he could have escaped today's party, he would have. Unfortunately, Martha had been hell-bent on having Erik attend today's tea party, which had practically every single eligible woman in the community present. He knew why he was here: Martha was set on marrying him off to any of the young ladies she was fond of, and would not rest until he chose one of them. At that moment, several girls were fluttering their fans in an attempt to gain his attentions, or to look flirty or seductive. This was why he could not allow his eyes to stay on one part of the room for too long; the young women were everywhere, floating about in their lace and silk dresses, their hair falling about in curls or waves around their heads and necks. If his gaze lingered too long somewhere, a girl would surely enter his line of vision, and if she did, she would think him interested in her. This, of course, was the last thing that Erik was interested in, but each one of them (including Martha) believed that he was merely playing "hard to get."

'_And it is those types of girls who just won't take 'no' for an answer_.'

Erik snorted in contempt. Some of these young women were far too bold, nothing like how a cultured young lady should act. They were always clinging to him, inviting him to their homes for teas or walks, or trying to trick him into inviting them (or daring to invite themselves) over to his house for some sort of thing or another. A few would have actually succeeded in getting what they wanted, if Erik had not discovered their intentions in time and smoothly slipped out of their grasp (both literally and figuratively).

Growling under his breath, Erik searched for another alcoholic beverage, extremely glad of his high tolerance for the stuff. As he grabbed a glass of red wine, Erik silently cursed his inabilities with the opposite gender. Most of the young men here would be glad to have so many women chasing after them, but all Erik wanted to do was to leave the foolishness behind him and return home. He had already done such a thing many times before, but he doubted that Tom and Martha would allow him to do it this time. The elderly couple was truly a force to be reckoned with, especially when they were doing their best to play matchmaker for someone they considered a friend who needed a wife.

Looking over at the Brooks', Erik bit back a smile. '_If only my parents could have been like them_,' he thought, taking a sip of his wine. '_My childhood would have been much happier and much different_.'

Finding an open chair hidden by the drapery of the windows, Erik walked over and sat down to enjoy some peace and quiet before he was found.

* * *

With six children all born, raised, and married off, Tom and Martha Brooks had nothing left to do except spend their money on parties and buy expensive and elegant knick-knacks for their incredibly large mansion. Most of their wealth had come from generations of farming cotton and crops for the sale to others, with their sons now running the business from their own offices and homes. And since all of their children were in such happy marriages, Martha believed that it was time to match the other young people in the town to someone that would best suit them. 

The problem this time was that Erik was proving to be very unwilling, and Martha could not understand why. He was a perfectly handsome young man who was very good at music, and had a kind heart to match. True, he acted as though he detested people, but Erik was always willing to run errands for Martha if she asked him to while he was visiting her.

'_And never have I seen a man so cultured, polite, and quiet_,' she thought as she sipped her tea, one ear listening to the young girls chatter to her as the other listened to her husband talking to an old friend.

If Erik had been one of her sons, he would have been her favorite. None of her boys was fond of music or books, and all had been rowdy from the moment they were born. A nice, quiet boy-child would have been a blessing, since she'd never had any girls of her own. No, there had been no Miss Brooks' in existence, except for in the present form of her tiny granddaughters. But now Martha felt that this was her chance to make a quiet, shy man come out of his shell of isolation.

'_If only he would participate in everything_!' she thought, somewhat exasperated. '_Well, I suppose you can't help them all, but he deserves to be happy_.'

Shaking her head, Martha turned her attention back to the young girls sitting at her feet and smiled.

* * *

'_I truly hate tea parties_.' 

It was the thousandth time Erik had repeated this phrase in his head, and it was still true. There was still an hour left before he could make what could be called a 'polite' early departure, meaning that he had to endure at least another hour of this nightmare before he could escape in a way society viewed of as courteous.

'_At least the young ladies haven't found me, which is a blessing_.'

The ones who normally tried to pursue Erik were currently in one of two sunny parlors, whereas Erik was tucked in a dark corner of a third. The one he currently occupied was cooler and had only four or five elderly women who could no longer feel comfortable in the sunshine. This, however, did not mean that Erik was fully safe from eligible women. The women presently sharing the room with him were likely aunts, grandmothers, or even mothers with daughters to wed off, and if they spotted him before he left, his freedom was doomed.

Taking a final sip of his wine, Erik set the empty glass on a side table and waited. The servants at the Brooks' home were very observant, and best of all, they both liked and pitied the poor man their mistress was presently trying to marry off. So, during occasions like this, they kept an eye out on him and for him, refilling his glass when others weren't looking and "calling" him away after he was trapped by groups of greedy, flirty young women.

Sure enough, a black maid and butler came in, the man distracting the elderly women by offering cold drinks and tasty snacks in another room as the maid took an unobserved walk around the room, picking up empty glasses and putting them onto a tray she carried. The old women were now rushing out of the room, eager for something fresh to eat and drink, and as soon as the door shut behind them, Erik let out a sigh.

"Is you alright, Mr. Erik?" Tina asked, smiling in his direction. It was his favorite spot to hide in, as this wasn't by far his first tea party at the house.

"Just fine, my dear," Erik replied as he stood.

"Well, that's good," the young girl replied. "My mama says that if you're hungry, she's got a batch of potato pancakes you can have. When you're done eating, you can slip out the back, real quiet-like. Mr. Tom and Mrs. Martha won't be missing you today…too many gigglers in the parlors, you know."

Erik chuckled. "I believe I'll take you up on that offer and plan, Tina."

No sooner than he'd said that than he was out a side door, heading straight for the kitchen. Tina's mother, Becky, had a way with potatoes that made Erik wonder what sort of magic the woman had with spices to make her potato pancakes taste so wonderful. Even Jill expressed an envy to be like her friend Becky, who promised to leave the secret of her cooking only to Tina and Jill when she died (which wasn't likely to be soon). A brief pause before entering the kitchen door saved Erik from having the wood paneling slammed into his face by one of the Brooks' many serving men.

"Sorry, sir!" Clarence whispered when he saw who he almost ran into. "But you might want to go around the other door…those Wesley girls are finishing up in the kitchen. Lookin' for ya, they are!"

Erik quietly groaned and raced the other way without another word. Thankfully, this other entrance required someone to go through the pantry before entering the kitchen, and all of the spoiled young women here would rather cut off their right foot than go through the pantry in order to enter the kitchen. Pausing to listen at the connecting door, Erik heard nothing except Becky giving orders to get back to work, which she would only do after shooing those horrid girls out of her realm. Feeling the coast was clear, Erik slipped into the room and into the welcoming atmosphere of the kitchen.

Within five minutes, Erik was seated at an out-of-the-way corner table, a plate of hot, crispy potato pancakes in front of him, along with a bowl of sour cream for dipping them in. Becky was chatting at him from over the piecrusts she was tossing about on the center island, and Tina was giggling along with the other girls at her mother's words.

"Lord, Mr. Erik!" the older, plumper woman said, her salt-and-pepper curls bouncing under her white bandana. "You sure are a lucky man today! Escaping the old ladies _and_ the Wesley girls, all in a few minutes of each other!"

"He sure is, Mama!" Tina said, grinning at him over her shoulder.

Erik, whose mouth was full of potato pancake, merely waved his fork at her in a threatening, but playful, manner. He knew she was teasing him, though, and did nothing further. Tina was fond of teasing Erik, and had never been afraid of him. She had the sweet, innocent manners of little Meg Giry, but none of the other girl's fear; instead, Tina teased Erik much as a girl would tease her older brother, and had done so ever since she had first saved him from the clutches of a pack of rabid women during his first tea party at the Brooks' mansion. Since then, all of the servants had a secret pact to always 'rescue' Erik, since they knew how Mrs. Brooks could be when trying to play matchmaker.

"Seriously, Mr. Erik, why don't you just marry a girl?" Tina asked as she folded napkins. "One rich girl's just like the rest, isn't she? Why not pick one and get it over with?"

"No, some are worse," Erik replied after swallowing.

"Yeah, and they're all pretty and stupid as well-bred sheep," muttered Clarence from the opposite side of Tina. Erik had a strong suspicion that the butler had an eye on the young maid, who was half his age, but apparently Tina was returning Clarence's feelings without qualms.

Erik could only laugh as he finished his last bite of potato pancake. Setting her chores aside, Becky immediately walked over and picked up his plate, helping him dust off his shirt and coat before giving him a quick glance to be sure he looked alright. Getting a nod of approval, Erik straightened himself up and smiled down at the cook, handing her a coin as a way of thanks. She frowned, but knew that she could use the money to help with Tina's future. Once he was confident enough to face the crowds and still get away from the party, Erik left the safety of the kitchen and headed out to find his hosts.

* * *

He didn't know how she did it, but Martha managed to convince Erik to remain for another twenty minutes. Inwardly, he suspected that it was because she wanted him to meet someone who would be arriving unbelievably late to the party. Finally, Erik felt he'd had enough. Standing from his chair, he bowed politely to Martha, who gave him an apologetic look as she allowed him to go. As he turned to leave, Erik spotted something unusual in the corner of the parlor. 

A young woman sat completely alone in a shady corner, the white lace curtains blowing back and forth behind her. Dressed in a simple, but still elegant, dress of white with dark green trim and a green sash around her waist, she was surely of the upper class. Reddish-brown hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head, and three thick curls fell on both sides of her face, a dark green lace ribbon holding a straw hat on her head. Taking a closer look, Erik could see she wasn't a thin stick of a woman; he could clearly make out a wealth of curves hidden beneath the white and green materials, and he could see luscious brown eyes under long brown lashes.

'_Quite the lovely girl_,' he thought, slowly moving closer. So why is she alone? '_Perhaps she is waiting for someone_?'

No, that wasn't it, but then, neither did she appear to be avoiding everyone. Instead, the rest of the party seemed to be avoiding _her_. Watching the girl absently sip her tea, Erik couldn't understand why no one was talking to her. There was no ring on her finger, meaning she was unmarried and not engaged, so why weren't there any men trying to court her? The young men were merely walking around her to look out the window or to try and speak with other girls, completely avoiding the pretty brunette sitting by the window. Was she not good enough for them for some reason? Or was there was a hidden flaw to her physique or personality?

'_Perhaps she is mute_? _But then, why allow your mute daughter to go to a tea party alone_?'

It made no sense at all! Well, thankfully Erik was capable of sign language, so if that _were_ the case, he, at least, would be able to speak to a fellow outcast. Smoothing his coat and vest, Erik began to move towards her. Once he had reached his destination, he cleared his throat.

"Hello."

She jumped slightly in her chair. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, setting aside her cup, which appeared to be empty.

So she did speak. Then why wasn't she being spoken to? "There's nothing to be sorry about," he said, moving the cup further into the center of the table so it would not fall. "I was merely wondering if…"

"If you could have the chair," the young woman replied in a soft voice, just loud enough for him alone to hear. "Of course, I'm sorry, of course you may." Quickly rising, she straightened out her skirts. Erik absently noted that the top of her head was even with the middle of his chest. "I must be leaving anyway. My family is expecting me at home."

Before Erik could speak another word, she curtseyed and slipped past him, vanishing out the door in a whirl of white lace and green silk. Puzzled, Erik followed her, far more curious about her than before, and wanting to know more about her.

However, his arrival to the front of the house was too late. His first step onto the porch showed a carriage rolling away, the young girl in the back holding a parasol above her head as a young driver directed it down the long dirt road.

'_I do not even know her name_,' Erik thought, disappointed for reasons beyond his comprehension.

That disappointment surprised him. He did not know why he cared about this strange girl he had only seen for a few moments, nor did he understand why he felt the need to find her and talk to her. What could he possibly talk about with a young, very likely well-educated woman? Music? Did she like music, and if so, which composer did she enjoy most? Did she read, and if so, what books held her attention and interests?

'_Good Gods, I'm babbling_,' he realized, shaking himself out of his daze.

It was at that moment that Erik learned that he was standing in the middle of the Brooks' front porch, staring at the fading form of the young girl's carriage. Feeling rather foolish about his actions, Erik straightened his coat and looked around, spotting his driver/butler, Marcus, at the edge of the porch with a knowing smile on his face.

"Shall I bring the horse and cart around, sir?" he asked his master.

"Yes, please, Marcus," Erik softly replied, glancing at the settling dust of the afternoon.

As the other man disappeared to carry out his orders, Erik clasped his hands behind his back, vowing to find out more about the young woman who was quickly becoming an obsessive puzzle for him. First, he would find out her name. And then…well, he'd let Fate decide the rest.

* * *

AN: Aw, Erik's got a little obsessive crush! I know it's kind of like the situation with Christine, but then again, what outcast wouldn't be curious about another? Well, please review and let me know what you think of the story so far! Thanks! 


	3. Anything But a Southern Belle

Disclaimer: Apparently Erik is as elusive in real life as he is in the books/movies, so he's still not mine. Only Clara, her family, and all other original creations are mine.

AN: Here's chapter 3! Sadly, there's no Erik in this chapter, but he'll definately be in the next one! Meanwhile, I hope that people are enjoying this story. Also, I have a huge fear of making Mary Sues, so if Clara becomes Sue-ish, let me know! Oh, and someone asked if Clara is based on me: physically, she looks a _little_ like me, but the rest is how she is in my head. Plus, I want readers to feel a little closer to her, so I put her in first-person POV. Feel free to leave a review on what you think of her and the other characters!

**Chapter 3: Anything But a Southern Belle:**

Biting my lip, I did my best to keep myself from crying as the Brooks' home faded into the distance behind me. In my opinion, it had been another tea party-turned-disaster, even though I had managed to stay for two cups of tea and a few tiny cakes before that handsome masked man wanted my chair. I really shouldn't have gone in the first place; social events are truly not my forte, despite anything my mother might say.

'_Still, it is a lovely day for a carriage ride…perhaps I can convince Henry to drive by the creeks instead of taking me directly home_?'

"Henry, would you please drive by the creeks? The breezes there would be wonderful today, and I would like to take a few flowers home to Mother," I said, doing my best to keep my voice firm and commanding, but failing miserably.

I sighed at the sound of my lack of authority. Mama always says that I'm too 'soft' with the servants whenever I want something from them. I always sound as though I were asking a favor instead of telling them exactly what I want. Although, I suppose that's why they like me better and do their best to please me more than they do with Mama's orders; she always yells at them, but then, Mama's always yelling at _everyone_.

"I'd love to take you, Miss Clara, but Mrs. Savoy said that if I don't get you back soon as the party's over, she's gonna tan my hide!" Henry said over his shoulder, though his tone was somewhat teasing, despite the serious subject matter.

I smiled in spite of myself. "You know she won't harm a hair on your head, Henry," I replied, holding my parasol higher to keep the sun off my face, a lesson Mother still frequently drummed into my head.

"Still, her yelling's enough to convince me," he said, facing front once more.

"But we both know that the party won't officially be over for another hour, and Mama won't be expecting me for another _two_ hours!" I pleaded, pulling a fan from a pocket hidden beneath the lace of my skirts. "And I promise not to say a word to her about it. Please, Henry?"

My black driver sighed, though I could tell he was smiling. "Alright, Miss, as you wish."

I did my best not to smile in triumph; sometimes its better to treat the help like actual people. If only Mama could learn that lesson…

* * *

The little web of creek beds created a cool, pleasant atmosphere, one that I desperately needed before returning home. Mother would not be pleased to see me home so soon, since most girls tended to stay behind at parties for quite a while before returning to their own houses. Yes, some lovely quiet-time alone to gather my thoughts and courage was exactly what I needed before I went back to the plantation. Hopefully Mother would be napping or away visiting her sisters instead of waiting to hear how the tea party went. 

I sighed. '_If only I could be so fortunate_.'

A few strands of my red-brown hair escaped the curls around my head, crossing my vision as the light breezes from the water tossed them about. Closing my eyes, I did my best to absorb the calm tranquility of the rushing water into my body. I always tried to carry this piece of Paradise with me wherever I went, just so I always had a place to go to when the world fell apart around me…which was quite often these days.

"Miss Clara, it's getting close to that time," Henry's lilting voice softly interrupted my moment.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes with another sigh. "Alright, let's go home, then."

He nodded before guiding the carriage away towards the house.

* * *

The high sound of female shrieking coming through the open windows was a sure sign that my luck had abandoned me. Mother was in a rage over some trifle or another, and I was sure to receive a very long lecture because she was unhappy with the way the servants had done their jobs today. I wish I knew how Father and the staff put up with her when she's like this, but I suppose, in our heart-of-hearts, we all love Mother, despite her temper tantrums. She really does mean well, when she yells and lectures us… 

As Henry pulled to a stop in front of the door, my younger brother, Philip, ran out to meet us. Once he reached us, Philip quickly moved to help me out of the carriage, a small smile on his lips. I smiled back as my feet landed on the dirt driveway, quickly going on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek. My dear eighteen-year-old brother cringed, but bent forward to return the gesture anyway, which was a bit unusual; he usually did not like getting or returning his older sister's kisses. Sure enough, he showed his hidden reason for kissing me back by putting his lips near my ear.

"Mother's in a fit over the flower arrangements in the parlor," he whispered. "She started only an hour ago."

I nodded; that was our secret code for passing information about how to escape Mother's wrath. Today, it meant that I would be able to slip up to my rooms and sit and wait for her to come to me, which would not be for quite some time. If I remained in my present tea-party dress, it would appear as though I had just returned from the Brooks' estate, and Mother would not be upset with me for avoiding her upon returning home. I had done this sort of trick before, and fearfully hoped that it would work again, as it had on other occasions.

I pulled away from Philip's side and went in the front entrance. The parlor was in a back corner of the house to catch the best light, and I knew Mama would be in that part of the house for the next few hours. She would first yell at the servants for not arranging the flowers correctly to go well with the wallpaper and the curtains, then start complaining of how the flower merchants were always sending the wrong sort of blossoms to our home and cheating us of our money. After she was finished with her rants about the flowers, Mama would then go into the kitchen to oversee dinner as she normally did, just to be sure that everything was perfect for the evening. Papa, Philip, and I could have cared less about the presentation of our dinner, as long as we could eat it, but Mama cared about it enough for every family in the county, so we let her have her way. Once dessert was over with, she would begin preparations for tomorrow's meals, leaving the rest of us in peace, at least for a little while.

Biting back a grin, I slipped up to my room and carefully shut my door so that no one heard me. The room was fairly dark, just the way I liked it while hiding from my mother. The dark blue theme of the room made it appear as though it were night, though the white of the bedsheets and the lacy curtains hanging from the bedposts made it appear the bed were floating in the darkness. Other than the white sheets and curtains, everything else in the room was made from dark materials: the wood of the furniture, the window curtains, the rugs, everything. I liked my room dark as much as possible, as it kept the room from becoming too hot during the summer and held the heat in during the winter.

And it was my sanctuary away from the world.

Sitting down at my mahogany vanity table, I leaned back in my chair and folded my hands in my lap, preparing myself. I was a very patient person when it came to things like avoiding confrontations with my mother, though she never thought I was the kind to wait her out. That was what made this waiting game of mine such a good one: if she never suspected me as a patient person, she would never discover this little avoidance tactic and put a stop to it.

Over an hour went by before I heard my mother's approaching footsteps. She gave a brisk knock on the door before flying into the room, stopping in her tracks at the sight of me with my hands in my lap. She sniffed in surprise before coming up behind me and placing her hands on my shoulders in a tender gesture, signaling that she had calmed down since earlier and was in a good mood.

"How was the tea party at the Brooks residence?" she asked, her hands reaching up to undo my hair.

I had to choose my words carefully. "It was alright," I replied, holding still so Mama could do her work. "I talked with a few people and everyone was talking about the Summer Ball happening next month."

"Good, good," she absently said, removing the pins that held my hair up.

'_Oh, no_.' When Mother talks in that manner, it meant trouble for me.

"You know, Philip will be out with us at the Ball," Mother said, her black eyes staring into mine through our reflections in the mirror.

I hid a wince at the hidden meaning: Mother was upset about my not being married at twenty-four years of age. I was supposed to have been wed by now, leaving Philip to appear in public as an eligible young man from a wealthy family. Philip was handsome enough to win any girl; he had dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and was tall, even taller than Papa was! There would be no trouble with him obtaining a good marriage, possibly even one to a girl he liked.

"Clara." That was all my mother needed to say. She was disappointed in me. Well, she was disappointed in both of her children, but me especially. I was not the small, petite beauty she was.

My mother wasn't a Southern Belle, per say, but was instead from a good family that had moved here from the Far West, near the city of San Francisco. My grandfather had obtained a large plot of land during a business deal, and before he knew it, he had moved his entire brood of children to Virginia. Mama, as the eldest of six children, did her duty and married the first man that had caught her eye, meaning my dear Papa. Her tiny stature, black hair, black eyes, and lovely golden skin had hooked him immediately, and the two were madly in love with each other the moment they had first met. It was truly the sort of thing for fairy tales.

I was born to them nine months after their wedding. I was a pretty enough child, I suppose. Instead of my mother's black hair or my father's golden-red, I had straight, dark brown hair. My brown eyes came from a mixture of my mother's deep black eyes and Papa's blue-gray. As I grew older, Mama had hoped that I would be a tall, petite woman, and a great beauty that would quickly wed. She was disappointed when I stopped growing at the same height she was, with a thicker waistline and wider hips than she bore, even after having two children. My hair lightened to a reddish-brown, though my eyes remained a deep, chocolate brown color. At sixteen years of age, I had officially become an embarrassment to my mother, a girl who would never have the looks of a Southern beauty.

By eighteen, it was clear that I was doing everything wrong in trying to obtain a husband. I was too shy to be a true Southern Belle, Papa said, though he said it fondly. I suppose he never wanted his little girl to leave him, since I was better to talk to than Mama was; after all, I could hold a conversation for more than five minutes without yelling at anyone. However, I could never approach a man to tease or flirt with him, which was the center of a Southern girl's way of getting a man to notice her. I had often tried, but when I did, I blushed too much and stuttered my words when I spoke. When that happened, the men would smile politely before going off to talk with another girl who was far more experienced than I was, leaving me standing alone in a corner somewhere. Mama had tried to teach me the correct way, but since she was from out West, her teachings were rather lacking.

In the end, I merely gave up trying to be something I clearly wasn't. Eventually, I discovered that I could really care less about being a Southern Belle. I would rather dive into a book, walk barefoot through the creeks, or go horseback riding than flirt with men. I was good at other things besides flirting, so I might as well do them instead. Besides, it didn't matter if I never married a wealthy man; Papa had secretly put money aside for me in case I never married, and Philip swore that he'd always take care of me no matter what happened after Mama and Papa passed away. So what was the use of me marrying someone who'd never care for me? I wanted love, not financial security and a cold relationship with a man who would never want to see me!

"Miss Clara!" called a voice. "Your bath's ready!"

Mama sighed and pulled away. "Take your bath and come downstairs so we can talk about a dress for the Ball," she said, her tone firm and commanding.

I nodded and stood up, undoing my dress so I could wash away the dirt from the afternoon's carriage ride.

* * *

An hour later, I was in a fresh blue dress and seated in the dark library, a book in my hands and Papa's mutterings over the monthly bills filling my ears. Despite her commands, Mother had gone into town to find some cloth that would be used for dresses for the two of us. I knew she wouldn't want us to clash, but she wouldn't want us to be too much alike, either, and she would do her best to make me look as beautiful as possible, even though I wasn't. 

Papa chuckled. "Don't worry your pretty little head about the Ball too much, my little pumpkin," he said.

I looked up and smiled at him. "I'll try not to," I teased back, my smile turning into a grin as Papa winked at me.

"And don't you listen to your mother," he ordered, knowing full well that my unmarried status was the only thing Mama ever worried about these days, besides how the interior of the house looked. "You'll find a good man when you're good and ready…and you'll marry him when _I'm_ good and ready to approve of the marriage!"

I giggled before turning back to my book. My dear Papa…so protective of me! If one of my parents favored one child, Papa fussed over me as much as Mama fretted over Philip. Oh, both Mama and Papa loved us both, but Mama always worried over her 'little baby boy' and Papa tended to think that all the men of the world were trying to steal his 'little princess' away from him.

"That palomino horse you were admiring, the one running around the old Clark place for the last two years?" Papa said. "You remember that mare?"

My head snapped up. "Yes, of course!" I'd admired that horse for quite sometime, but never thought it would ever be mine.

"Well, turns out that some rich Frenchman bought the old Clark place over a year ago." Papa snorted. "Old Man Clark never did offer the land to me like he promised. He said he would sell it to me so I could expand our plantation, but that just goes to show you…"

"A Frenchman bought the place?" I asked, curious about the new neighbor. "Why was I never told?"

"He's a bit of a recluse," my father replied. "Doesn't go out much, but he's a good friend to Tom and Martha Brooks, so everyone's accepted him right quickly. And we did tell you; you just lost interest because your mother used the words '_available'_ and '_man'_ in the same sentence. You know you always stop listening at that point." I laughed in agreement. "Anyway, the place was sold eighteen months ago, and he's only _now_ just selling that mare! And he's sold it to _me_ for a very good price!"

I held my breath until Papa grinned at me. I let out an unladylike squeal and threw my book aside as I went to hug and kiss my father. I'd always wanted that gold-colored horse, and now he was spoiling me by giving it to me. Papa gave me an affectionate pat on the head as I pulled away and told me to go outside and "play with my new pony."

I ran upstairs to change into a riding dress, calling out orders as I did so. Henry ran to saddle my horse as my door closed behind me and I dove into my closet. I threw on a black and white themed riding outfit before racing out the front door and to the stables where my new horse awaited me, prancing in the dirt as I approached.

Oh, but she was a beauty! A beautiful golden-wheat color with a white mane and tail, the lower part of the legs a pale crème color. She would truly be a joy to ride, if I managed to calm her down. Fortunately, Papa is a good horseman and he'd taught me everything he knew. Remembering a particular lesson, I reached for an apple I had snatched on my way out of the house and tucked into a pocket. Pulling out the red treat, I held it in the palm of my hand and waited.

The mare knew an apple when she saw it, and a quick sniff of the fruit told her how fresh and sweet it was. It wasn't long before it was being crunched between her teeth and she was nuzzling my dress to find more hidden treats. I laughed and slowly moved up beside her, trying to think of a name for her.

"You will be…Aurora. But I'll call you Sunny for short," I declared.

Sunny merely snorted as I swung up onto her back and directed her towards the road. It was going to be a good day for a ride, I could tell.

* * *

AN: I hope that people enjoyed meeting Clara. Please review and let me know what you thought! 


	4. Of Fate and Illusions

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing.

AN: Okay, I have to admit to not being from the South; I'm basically going on what I've seen in the film _Gone with the Wind_, and I apologize for stereotyping my Southern women to be like Scarlett O'Hara. Please accept my apologies, and if you are from the South and would like me to correct it, please let me know. Meanwhile, I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter (and story). Thanks, and please review!

**Chapter 4: Of Fate and Illusions**:

Erik bit back a curse as he felt another sneeze coming on. '_Blasted_!' he thought, holding his handkerchief to his nose in preparation.

ACHOO!

Groaning, he leaned back in his bed and sniffed. It had been like this all day, the sneezing never stopping for more than a few moments before reoccurring in sudden, large bursts. His nose resembled a river, and he was sure to run out of handkerchiefs before the day was up. Then there was the fact that his voice was somewhat hoarse. How could he compose when he couldn't sing in accompaniment with his work?

'_I also detest being ill_.'

Yes, there was also that as well. When he had lived beneath the Opera Populaire, Erik had hardly ever gotten sick. True, the conditions had been wet, cold, and dark, technically a perfect breeding establishment for illnesses, but that had not been the case; Erik had rarely become ill while living in his underground home, and had been grateful. When he _had_ managed to get sick, however, he had done his duty, drinking hot teas and staying in bed for as long as he dared to leave the managers of his Opera House unsupervised. Once he felt the slightest bit better, he immediately returned to work.

'_Not so this time_,' he thought, closing his eyes in misery. '_There are no managers or tasks to see to once I am better, besides writing my music and overseeing my lands, which Marcus does anyway_.'

He had felt fine until that tea party two weeks ago, where he had first seen the young woman in the white-and-green dress. It was all too likely that someone had brought their sickness to the party, coming out into society too soon after recovering. Now Erik wondered where that person was and he silently hoped that, whoever that person was, he or she was having a relapse as a consequence for making him ill.

A sudden chill went through his body, terrible shivers of cold making him reach for his blankets. His blood felt as though it had turned to ice, the bed not warm enough to comfort him. Raising his hands to his forehead, Erik felt a drop of sweat roll along his fingers. How could he be cold yet sweating?

"Fever," he whispered, wrapping his blankets tightly around him as he laid back down.

He was ill _and_ had chills and a fever. If he had influenza, he could very well die within the next few days. If his fever broke soon, however, he would be fine and make a full recovery. He would need constant care, though, and there was presently no one in the house to give it to him. Oh, why had he given Marcus and his family the day off? They had left for town early that morning, before he had awoken so they could go visit some old friends.

'_I can't leave my bed_,' Erik thought, his teeth chattering. '_I need to stay warm and rested_. _I need to stay here in my room until I feel well enough_.'

But he would need to eat, too. If Jill wasn't here to cook, and Marcus wasn't here to bring him the much-needed soup, water, and teas, then who was there to help him?

'_No one_,' he thought as he snuggled deeper into his bed, his eyes closing with sudden exhaustion.

It was hopeless. With no one there to help him, Erik knew he could very well die alone and unnoticed in his bed. But perhaps death would not be so bad. So, closing his eyes, Erik drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Letting out a groan of frustration mixing with a sigh of defeat, I did my best to keep my lovely new horse on the road. Today, Sunny resembled anything but her namesake, the mare clearly in an angry mood over the day's weather and muddy conditions. The animal was also likely upset at me, her mistress, who had been the one to insist on horseback riding during a cloudy day. 

'"It's not as though I _knew_ it would rain!" I muttered aloud to the mare, who instantly twitched her ears back to listen to what her rider had to say. "I just wanted to get away from my mother!"

The horse merely snorted in reply, and I really couldn't be sure if the horse actually understood me or not. Pushing the possibility of an unusually intelligent mare aside, I tried to focus on anything except my predicament, which quickly failed as I rode towards home in the heavy rain.

'_If only Philip hadn't brought up the Ball_,' I thought, biting my lip in anger. '_None of this would have happened if he had merely kept his mouth shut like he usually does_!'

Unfortunately, Philip was even more excited about this particular Summer Ball than he had ever been before, given that he was now able to flirt and court any young woman he wished. Normally he had been forced to remain under the watchful eyes of our parents; now Philip would be able to socialize with his friends and, most importantly, the young available women that he had had his eye on. This eagerness, of course, had come bursting forth in the form of questions regarding what everyone in the family would wear in the hopes that they would not clash.

And of course, the moment the topic of the Ball had come up, Mama had instantly gone on about how I wasn't doing my "duty" in finding a man and getting married like I was supposed to. She lectured on and on about how disgraceful I was, being twenty-four-years-old and unmarried while girls were starting families at eighteen years of age. I was a "failure," and this time, I couldn't hold back my tears as I ran upstairs and slammed the door behind me.

After calming down and being informed by the servants that Papa had taken Mama out for a ride in the carriage, I had quickly dressed in a green riding outfit and raced to the stables, ignoring any protests from the stable boys and the maids, who declared that it would rain and I would become ill from riding in this weather. Naturally, as is expected, I went anyway, if only to be away before Papa and Mama returned; I truly needed to push the morning's conversation aside from my thoughts, but it would not go. Instead, I kept playing my mother's words over and over again in my head.

'_It's not **my** fault that I can't flirt or hold conversations like the other girls_!' I thought as Sunny plodded through the mud of the road.

With the way I stuttered and blushed while talking to men, the situation of my being an old maid was unavoidable; this I knew, and there was nothing I could do about it. True, some women married at a more advanced age than mine, but Mama claimed that no rich man would want to marry a women with wrinkles and the inability to produce heirs and children for the household. I simply had to accept the fact that no man would want me for a wife.

Suddenly, the rain began pouring down harder, now changing from a fairly slow drizzle to a downpour, the water coming down in sheets. I gasped, feeling as though I were going to drown. My skirts were now totally soaked, and Sunny neighed in protest of the sudden change in situation. As I sat in my saddle, sputtering water that ran down my face, I knew I couldn't make it home. Shelter had to be found, but we were miles from anywhere, especially home! The only house nearby was…

"The Clark mansion!" I exclaimed, trying to wipe the water out of my eyes, nose and mouth.

Turning Sunny in that direction, I prodded her until she moved as fast as she dared in the muddy road.

* * *

I was never so happy to see a house in my life. Not only was it dry, but it also wasn't _my_ home, where I could be sure of receiving a lecture from my mother about riding outside in such dastardly weather. Instead, I avoided the front door and approached the stable. I frowned when no one came out to meet me. I knew that there were three servants attending the place, and they were always very good about meeting people, no matter where they were on the property. If they weren't here, then they must have either been dismissed by their new master, or had the day off. 

'_Probably the latter_,' I thought to myself. '_If they had been dismissed and there were new help brought on, Henry would have had our house in an uproar, since he loves the Jones family_.'

Sighing, I eased Sunny up to the stable door, under the awning so that I had a dry place to dismount. I carefully slid off of my extraordinarily patient and darling mare and opened the door. Sunny immediately raced past me and went into the nearest stall, standing stock-still as she waited for me to catch up and remove her harness and saddle.

All this I did, laying everything out to dry before heading to the door that must connect the stables to the main house. Before I entered, however, I quickly wrung the water from my (likely) ruined dress, so that I wouldn't ruin the floor. That done, I slipped inside, listening for any signs of life. I heard nothing, so perhaps no one was home. I decided to look around for something dry to wear, thinking that perhaps there was a lady of the house that wouldn't mind my borrowing a simple dress.

A quick tour of the rooms showed that the guest rooms were mostly unused, and if they were used, it was only for storage. Male garments were in many of the closets, but in an old trunk lay some clothing that must have been left behind when the Clark's sold the property; the dresses were too fine to be servant clothes, and were too out of fashion to belong to any present lady of the house. Still, they were dry, and that was enough for me. I pulled out a red dress with lace at the sleeves, and some underclothes, swiftly changing into them as fast as I could.

Once I was comfortable, I went searching in the other rooms of the house. I had heard nothing while entering and exploring the house, which could mean that I was alone. On the other hand, perhaps the new owner (or owners) had gone to bed or could possibly be busy…doing _other_ _things_. Blushing, I realized that I'd heard nothing to suggest anything of the sort, but I kept an ear open anyway.

Then I heard it. A groan of pain and misery, and it sounded male. Perhaps the new owner was a cripple and the Jones' had left him alone to rest, thinking that he wouldn't likely need them today? Marcus would never leave someone like that without having permission, but it sounded like this person needed help right now. So, praying that I wasn't interrupting something, I followed the sound to what appeared to be the master bedroom. The sounds of pain became louder and more miserable, so I cracked the door open and looked inside.

There lay a man on the bed, tossing and turning as though he were dreadfully ill. I crept closer, surprised to see that most of the right side of his face covered with a white mask. He looked as though he were sweating heavily, and his eyes had a glazed look, as though he could not see me. The man seemed familiar, and I recognized him from the party at the Brooks' home two weeks ago, the man who had wanted the chair I had sat in. I also instantly knew that this man was very sick, and that he needed my help. Without someone to care for him, he would die. So, rolling up my sleeves, I sat on the right side of his bed and placed a calm hand on his forehead.

"It's alright," I whispered, hoping to calm him down. Amazingly, it worked, and the man before me stared up at me with green-gray eyes that were so full of pain and longing it nearly broke my heart.

"An angel?" he whispered in disbelief.

I smiled and could not resist a small laugh. "No, I'm afraid I'm not," I replied, gently stroking his sweating forehead. "But I will take care of you until you're feeling better." The man nodded and promptly collapsed into a deep sleep.

Knowing that he would likely be unconscious for quite some time, I went down to the kitchen to begin making some hot broth and tea. Mother would have a fit if she knew that I had taken cooking lessons from the servants, but I did not care; that man upstairs needed me, and I was going to help him. Once the water was boiling for tea and a nice soup was mixed together over a slow fire, I prepared a tray.

On a large tray to take upstairs, I set a bowl of cold water and several dry towels, as well as a cup of good strong tea. Carrying the slightly heavy burden, I slowly ascended the stairs towards the man's bedroom, where I could hear his deep breathing. Good, he was still asleep, which was something he very much needed.

Slipping quietly into the room, I approached the bed and set the tray on a nearby table, sticking a towel into the cool water to soak. Once it was wet and well chilled, I squeezed out the excess water and prepared to set the moist cloth onto his forehead to keep him cool. I frowned once I saw the mask; it would get in the way of the cloth and the cooling process, and would have to be removed. I could only hope that…whatever-his-name-was would not be upset with me. Taking a deep breath, I reached out and pulled the mask from his face, looking at the form that lay beneath it.

His face was odd, but it didn't frighten me. The skin was red, and it was bumpy as well, as though he had been burned in an accident of some kind. The unusual formation stretched from just above his jaw to the edge of his thick, dark hair, encompassing the right side of his nose. There were a few yellowed patches of skin as well, and the right eye was puffy and appeared to be swollen from the mask rubbing against it. The poor man; why did he wear it if it was so uncomfortable?

Gently '_tsking_' under my breath so as not to wake him, I set the mask on a nightstand and put the cloth in its place. He winced, but did nothing more as I gently dabbed a dry cloth around his face to absorb any escaping water or sweat coming from his body. Once I felt the moist towel on his forehead had become too warm, I replaced it with another cool rag, continuing the pattern for an hour before I felt his body cool to it's normal temperature.

Sighing, I stood up and retrieved a comfortable chair to sit in as I kept my eye on the sick man before me. I could very well be here for quite some time, so I might as well make myself comfortable and get some sleep. Which was exactly what I did…though only for a few moments.

* * *

Erik woke with the oddest feeling that he was not alone in his room. Nor did he feel cold or have sweat dripping down his face. What happened? He remembered a lovely angel peering down at him with warm, caring brown eyes, the kindness in them filling his heart with joy. The oddest thing was that his angel resembled the woman from the tea party at the Brooks estate a few weeks ago. Sighing, Erik opened his eyes and saw everything dissolve into a blur of colors and sounds. The one thing that remained in focus was the angel sitting drowsily next to him in a deep red gown. 

She quickly became alert when she saw he was awake. "How are you feeling?" she whispered as she set a cold, wet cloth on his forehead. "Are you hungry? I have some nice hot soup for you."

Erik could do nothing but nod. He let her prop him up in bed and stroke the sides of his face, including the monstrous _right side_. He winced and raised his hand to his cheek to cover it. A gentle, feminine touch stopped him and pulled his hand away. Looking up, Erik saw the vision beside him smile as she released his hand and picked up the bowl of soup, one hand raising the spoon to his lips.

"No need to hide from me," she whispered. "It's alright, I have seen much worse than yours, so you do not frighten or disturb me in any way." The spoon stopped at his lips. "Now, open up and eat. You need your strength."

Not daring to displease her, Erik obeyed. The soup, he could tell, was made from chicken, and he could taste carrots, celery, onions, and potatoes, all cooked until they were soft enough to mush with his tongue. Wanting to please the apparition next to him, Erik ate the broth until he heard her scraping the bottom of the bowl, which signaled that there was none left for him to eat. Sighing, he lay back onto his pillows and looked up at her.

"Thank you for helping me, _Mon Angel_," he whispered. "You look so much like her…"

"Like who?" she asked, a small smile on her lips.

"A woman…a lovely woman I saw at a tea party," Erik replied, allowing a dreamy look to settle on his face. "I wanted to speak with her, but she ran away before I could discover her name." A warm, gentle hand patted him on the shoulder, and he could tell it was hers.

"I'm sure you will find her again soon."

Erik nodded before gazing up at her. Suddenly, he felt the need to tell his angel something before he could forget.

* * *

I sat there for several hours, listening to the strange man before me babble on in a fever-induced haze about love, loss, and the Angel of Music who had abandoned him after seeing his face. My heart broke for the poor soul lying in the bed, pouring his heart's story into my ears. He seemed so lonely, as though he had never felt love before. He told me of his mother never loving him for his face, a face cursed on him since birth, and of his gift of music. He even sang a few songs for me, for which I rewarded him with a smile and applause; he seemed extremely pleased with my appreciation of his talents. 

When he no longer wished to talk about his past, he began to hum songs that I had never heard before. Some were soft and full of love and hope; others were dark, passionate and seductive, making me blush as I sat in my chair. As he finally drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but wonder why such a magnificent man wasn't married yet. He was clearly a musical genius, and even if his face wasn't what was considered 'normal,' he was still an extremely handsome man.

Shaking my head, I left him to his rest. He was clearly on the mend, and would sleep until the Jones' returned either today or tomorrow. His fever had broken and he no longer had the sweats, so he would be well in no time. I would leave within the hour, as the rainstorm was letting up, but would leave a note for the Jones family to find when they returned. The soup I would put on the stove to keep warm, should it be needed later on. Meanwhile, I needed to change out of these borrowed garments.

* * *

Upon arriving home, I received a very sound lecture from my mother about riding during questionable weather. She scolded me on not using sound judgment, and accused me of frightening her on purpose by staying out so late without proper escort. As soon as she was finished, Papa joined in on the lecture, telling me that, from this day forward, I was never again to go riding in the rain alone. 

I bore this for over an hour before I was allowed to defend myself. I told of staying in the stable of the old Clark home, as Mama would be scandalized if she discovered I'd been alone in the house with a _man_ for several hours. I mentioned caring for Sunny until the storm broke and allowed me home, which had led us to this moment. Mother gave an annoyed sigh before letting me go to my room.

Once alone, I changed into my nightdress and collapsed into bed, all thoughts of the day's events fleeing from my mind.

* * *

The next day, when the Jones family returned to the mansion, they were surprised to find a warm soup on the stove and to hear the bell being rung from upstairs. Marcus raced upstairs while Jill dealt with the soup and read the note on the stove. 

"Well, what do you know? Miss Clara Savoy herself was here!" the old woman exclaimed.

Laura leaned in to take a look at the note. "Caught in the storm, was she? Well, I told you it was a good idea to keep old Mrs. Clark's dresses up in that guest room!"

Jill laughed at her daughter's words before dishing out some soup for the two of them. Apparently there was enough in the pot to serve at least ten people, though from the looks of it, Mr. Rousseau had already had his! And as Marcus ran into the kitchen, Jill immediately spooned up another bowl for their master, which was promptly taken upstairs to be served.

Lying in bed, Erik felt much better than he had the previous day. He vaguely remembered having hallucinations about the girl from the Brooks' tea party, as well as soup being fed to him, but nothing more than that.

'_Why would I think about her_? _It makes no sense_!'

True, he had felt the need to get to know her better, to find out more about her, but that shouldn't cause him to have visions of her while he was ill! Of course, the mind did very odd things when a person had a fever…then again, who had taken care of him, if it wasn't the Jones'? Erik pushed the though aside and tried to focus on his breakfast.

Glancing down at his bowl of soup, Erik sighed. '_I cannot wait to have decent food again_,' he thought. '_A good helping of beef will be the first thing I tell Jill to make as soon as I can have it_.'

Cringing at the sight of the mushy vegetables floating around in the liquid, Erik reluctantly dug into his meal.

* * *

AN: I hoped that people enjoyed this chapter. Clara and Erik will meet again soon, promise! And it won't be because he's sick, either! Please _review_! 


	5. A Night at the Ball

Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: Okay, some bad news here. My posting will temporarily be on hold after this, because I'm getting a new computer at work (yes, I write at work, it's not a crime) and the new computer doesn't have a floppy drive. Since I use a floppy disk to store and transport my chapters, I need a new way to store and transport chapters, and will be unable to post until I figure it out. Thanks for the understanding! Now enjoy a night at the Ball with Erik and Clara, and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 5: A Night at the Ball**:

Glancing around the room, Erik did his best to remain in the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. True, this was not Paris and he was free to join in on the festivities; he could dance with anyone he chose, talk freely with gentlemen who sought conversation, and laugh at any jest thrown his way. Or he could just stand out in the light and smile at those who waved at him.

However, old habits are hard to be rid of. Erik knew that a mere eighteen months in sunlight and the public eye was not going to banish the need for darkness when others were close by. He could not feel comfortable in such a setting as this, with well-dressed men and women garbed in their finest silks and lace wandering around him. He especially did not enjoy having the young ladies (and some not so young) flirting with him; it was unnerving to him, and he disliked it tremendously. The mixture of perfume, cigars, cologne, and spice from the food tables made him feel ill.

'_I should not have come_,' he thought, quickly snapping up a glass of champagne and drinking the whole thing in one gulp. '_I detest this sort of thing_.'

If it hadn't been for Tom and Martha's insistence, Erik knew that he would be in the quietness of his home, playing something soothing and enjoying a fine glass of wine or brandy. Instead, he was suffering from a bad case of nerves, and desperately wanted to leave. However, he had only been here for half an hour, and to leave so soon would be considered quite rude by society's standards.

'_It also does not help that this so-called '**Ball**' is nothing like the Masquerades put on in Paris_.'

Well, perhaps that was a little conceited of him. Still, Erik highly doubted that any 'Ball' in this town could compare with the glamour, elegance, and beauty of a true French Masquerade! There were no professional dancers for entertainment, nor was the orchestra very practiced; Erik highly doubted that they kept up rehearsals outside of events like the one for this evening! As a result, the occasional instrument was out of tune or made the sound of a duck being trod on, which the party attendants seemed to ignore all too easily.

Groaning, Erik snapped up another glass of champagne. It was going to be a very long evening…a very long, _dull_ evening, he was sure.

* * *

"For heaven's sakes, Clara, hurry!" Mama cried through my door. "We're late enough as it is!" 

'_Only by a few minutes_,' I couldn't help thinking. Out loud, I said, "I'm almost done with my hair, Mother!"

I put the last pin into my hair before I had even finished my sentence. Taking a deep breath, I looked at myself in the mirror before I went downstairs to meet my family. My red silk gown went very well with my hair and eyes, though I did not like the low cut of the bodice. The white lace that trimmed the straps that were my 'sleeves,' as well as the numerous ruffled layers of the skirt, was very soft and pretty. My hair was pulled to the back of my head, and I couldn't help but feel proud that, for once, the two curls I had done along both sides of my head were staying in the shape I had put them into. I felt quite like the Southern Belle, and I believed I looked the part as well; hopefully Mama would be pleased with me…

Grabbing a fan (for if it got too warm) and a white shawl (for if I went outside), I gracefully walked downstairs. Papa was handsome in his black tuxedo, and Mama was an elegant beauty in dark blue velvet. Philip also was in a tuxedo, though he wore a silver vest over his white shirt. Together, I felt we made quite the lovely picture as a family, and I could see the pride shining in Papa's eyes as he looked at me.

"You look beautiful, sweetness," he said, coming over to give me a kiss on the forehead. "A true belle of the ball, you'll be!"

"I certainly hope so," Mama declared, flicking her fan open and looking me over. "After all I spent on that red silk, as well as the lace all the way from China? She had _better_ look good!"

I couldn't tell if she was jesting or not, since it was always hard to tell with her. Also, Mama didn't joke very often, so I thought it best not to laugh or show any amusement. Instead, I put on my best façade, which consisted of me looking clam and collected under any circumstances. My mother gave me an inspecting glance before nodding her approval, which was the signal for us to go out to the carriage. Henry opened the door and the four of us Savoy's climbed in, ready for the night's festivities.

* * *

As Erik circled the hall for what felt like the hundredth time that night, he felt ready to leave at once, despite the numerous people who were presently arriving "fashionably late" to the event. Tom and Martha had tried several times to direct young female dance partners his way, but he had not spent years of being evasive for nothing. He'd avoided many available girls this evening, and if he remained, he would likely have to avoid dozens more! 

Gritting his teeth, Erik cast his eyes around the room once more, keeping an eye out for the women who were practically stalking him. What a role reversal: him being stalked instead of being the stalker! Oh, how the people in Paris would laugh at him for this! Biting back the curse words he longed to exclaim, Erik's gaze found itself to the front door, his means of escape. However, he forgot his intent to flee the moment he saw the family that entered through the large wooden doors.

A petite woman with black hair and eyes clung to a tall man with red-gold hair. The woman was dressed completely in deep blue velvet, giving her an air of dark mystery that was very appealing. In opposition to her was her husband, whose bright hair was thinning on top of his head, but the fading hairline did nothing to take away the jolly smile and air that surrounded him, despite his black tuxedo. They made quite the unique couple, and appeared to be very happy.

Behind them came a tall young man in his late teens, apparently their son. He, too, wore a tuxedo, but with a silver vest that was rather dashing on him. Erik nodded in approval of the boy, who had dark hair and light brown eyes that were serious, but not too grave on a person his age. However, Erik could see that this young man had the ability to have fun, when given the chance, a chance he would hopefully get tonight. He was everything a young man of wealth and education should be, and not some empty-headed fop like some others Erik had met, which was a blessing.

However, it was not these three people that truly caught and held Erik's attention…it was the young woman in a red silk and white lace cloud that followed behind them.

He recognized her the moment she set foot in the door, a footman taking her white lace shawl from her shoulders as she smiled at him. Her family's entrance had not disturbed the party in any way, but for Erik, it was as though time had literally stood still. The music faded, dancing couples froze, and everyone and everything else had simply…disappeared. Taking a deep breath, Erik moved towards her, hoping to catch her before another man asked her to dance.

He watched in surprise as her mother and father gave her reassuring and encouraging smiles before walking off to talk with friends. The young man (who had to be her younger brother) also smiled at her before heading off in a different direction. Erik did not care what these others did; he only cared about the young woman and where she was going to go.

He dared not approach her too soon; after all, he was a stranger to her, a person still new to the town and its people. Instead, he followed her with his eyes and trailed behind her at a distance, waiting for just the right moment to introduce himself to her.

* * *

I bit the inside of my cheek as I made my way to the drink table for some punch, just like I always did at balls or parties like this. I knew that most of the available men would already be taken by a lady, so I had little to no chance of actually achieving a dance tonight. Well, unless Papa or Philip took pity on me, and from the looks of things, that sort of thing wasn't going to happen; Mama was firmly latched on to Papa's arm, and Philip was very much the popular one with the younger girls. This left no chance for a person like me to dance with a partner of the opposite gender. 

'_A wallflower again_,' I bitterly thought, scooping out a bit of punch into a silver cup. A few drops spilled on my hand, and I was thankful that I had not worn gloves with my gown. As disastrous as tonight was going to be, showing Mother a pair of ruined gloves would have made it much worse.

Sighing, I cleaned my hand, sipped my punch, and watched the dancing. Even though I hated being alone at social events like this, I did enjoy watching the different colors and styles of gowns; it was all so beautiful and dazzling that I couldn't help but sigh as the women swirled past me in the arms of their dance partners. That lovely sight, of course, would then remind me that I had no such partner, causing me to become sad and more focused on the buffet table or drinks. Biting back tears, I raised my cup to my lips, about to take another drink, when I saw _him_.

It was the masked man from the Brooks' tea party and the old Clark home, the one I had taken care of the day of the storm. He was extremely handsome in his black tuxedo and deep red vest, the white of his mask contrasting with the dark shades of his outfit. As I watched him gracefully move through the crowd, I saw that his outfit almost matched mine in colors. But the strangest thing of all was that he was starting to walk towards _me_!

'_Or maybe he just wants to get to the drinks_,' whispered a tiny voice in the back of my head.

I barely hid a wince of disappointment. This is what usually happened whenever a man moved towards me and I was standing near the food or beverage tables. I would think that he was interested in me, and all that would happen would be him asking me to please move so that he could get himself a drink or a bite to eat. Besides, from the way the other girls were attempting to get _this_ man, I had no chance of attracting him in any way. So, biting back a grimace of disappointment, I merely set my cup down and began looking around for one of the chairs lining the wall, ready to sit and watch the Ball as I always did.

Just as I spotted an empty chair, I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. Turning around, I looked right into a row of buttons, going straight down a very male chest. Glancing up, my gaze met a pair of green eyes behind a stunningly white mask.

* * *

Watching her closely, Erik saw her take a silver cup and a bit of punch, her manners delicate and cautious. It puzzled him to see her so alone and without anyone attempting to approach her, but if she was alone and without a flock of chattering friends, so much the better. However, what drew him to her even more was the forlorn look that seemed to haunt her face, as though it was all she had ever known at these social gatherings. 

'_Perhaps she and I are not so different_,' Erik thought as he began moving his way towards her.

As he walked, Erik could feel many young women gazing at him, hoping to catch his eye in an effort to seize him as their partner for the evening. The moment he passed them by, however, he could feel the air fill with disappointment at being overlooked, which amused him to no end. Now, though, his sights were set on the red-clad beauty who stood sipping a drink that was the color of her new gown. He saw her spot him approaching her, and could not help but smirk to himself as she timidly turned her gaze down into her silver cup.

'_Such a shy maiden_,' Erik couldn't help but think.

It only made her more attractive to him. Several other girls tried to get his attention by touching his arms or shoulders, but his ignored them, merely giving them a brief shake of the head as he walked. As he drew closer, Erik noticed that she had turned away, apparently searching the room for something…or, perhaps…some_one_?

For some reason that thought burned Erik more than anything so far tonight, and he felt the sudden need to divert her attention towards him. Slipping up behind her, Erik cleared his throat. The young woman's attention was quickly focused on him, her brown eyes meeting the row of black buttons going up his white shirt, following the trail up to meet his eyes.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle," he said in his most cultured voice, his hand reaching out for her own.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing furiously. "Oh, please, excuse me! I must be in your way."

She took a quick step back from his hand, her cheeks as red as the silk of her gown. Confused, Erik looked between her and the table, finally understanding what she was doing. She believed to be in his way to get to the offered drinks! Chuckling, Erik reached out and took her hand. She blushed as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, a pleased, but shy, smile on her lips at the attention he was giving her. Biting back a triumphant smirk at his success, Erik settled for merely giving her a sincere little smile as his green eyes stared into deep brown ones. Watching her shy blush turn into an awestruck look, the former Phantom of the Opera put a great deal of his most charming talents to the test by asking her something that most young ladies were dying to hear.

"Would you honor me with a dance?" he purred, his eyes not moving from hers.

An instant later, his heart nearly stopped as her lush, dark eyelashes fluttered in the most seductive manner he had ever seen. Her awed look became a light blush as another shy smile pulled up the corners of her lips. Erik had to do his best not to swallow his tongue as he waited for her to speak.

"It would be a pleasure," she softly replied, her Southern accent sweet as heaven to his ears.

Smiling back at her, Erik offered her his elbow and escorted her onto the dance floor.

* * *

I could barely keep myself from fainting. I was on the arm of one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen, and he had actually asked me to dance with him! And it wasn't from lack of partners, either; I had seen dozens of eligible women and girls attempt to make him their partner for the evening, all of them failing to do so. Why this man would want to dance with me of all people was beyond any reason that I could think of. 

'_Perhaps I should ask_? _No, better not to be rude, Clara; just enjoy the moment of dancing with a handsome man who wants your company, if only for this evening_.'

So I did. He was an amazing dancer, his moves graceful and full of purpose as he led me around and across the dance floor. His gloved hands were so gentle, his arms firmly keeping me close to him as he twirled me to the sounds of the orchestra. Whenever I looked up into his face, there was a contented smile there, making him look even more handsome than before. A small dimple showed on the left side of his mouth when he appeared happy, which I couldn't help but smile up at.

"Does something amuse you, Mademoiselle?" he asked.

I couldn't help but shiver in delight. Oh, that voice! It was so rich and full of emotion that I wanted to hear more of it, not caring what he said as long as he spoke to me. Looking up at him, I noticed that he was now fully grinning at me, the two of us stopping where we were as the dance ended. He took my right hand and kissed it before tucking it into the warmth of his left elbow.

I bit back a sigh as he led me to a secluded corner of the ballroom, offering me a chair as he released my hand and took a standing position to my left, practically cutting me off from the views of the other attendants. I shook my head, refusing the seat, which seemed to please him for some reason. Instead, the two of us merely stood together in a comfortable silence that was only broken by my mysterious dance partner.

"I had been hoping to ask you something that has been plaguing me for some time, my dear," he said, looking down into my eyes.

"Yes?" I breathed, completely awed by this man and his astounding voice and presence.

"Your name," he said, hovering a bit closer to me. "I would have you give me your name."

I swallowed, hard, to keep my heart from leaping out of it. "Clara," I softly replied. "Clara Savoy."

"Clara," he repeated, smiling. I nearly fainted as he said my name. "I am Erik Rousseau."

"It's…nice to meet you, Erik." I couldn't stop myself from blushing as he kissed my hand again.

"The pleasure is mine, _cherie_," Erik replied, once more tucking my hand into his elbow. "Would you care for some fresh air? It is getting rather warm in here."

I nodded my agreement and followed him. As we moved through the crowd, I couldn't help but notice that the other girls were giving me the most jealous looks they could muster. Averting my eyes, I focused all of my attention on the man who presently clutched my hand as though it were a priceless treasure and he feared to lose it. Let the other girls be jealous of me just this once; tonight, I actually had the attention of a handsome man…even if might only be for this one evening.

* * *

AN: Aw, wasn't that nice? How did you like them meeting for the first time (outside of the sickness scene)? Review and let me know what you thought! 


	6. Reflections and Budding Romance

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing.

AN: This is the last update before my new computer at work arrives and things start to slow for a bit. So until I get around this "no floppy drive at work" thing, I will have to write and post at home. However, thanks to summer reruns on TV, this shouldn't be much of a problem. Enjoy!

**Chapter 6: Reflections and Budding Romance**:

I was in a daze as we rode home in the carriage, my mind floating back to the wonderful evening that I had just spent with Erik. Our walk outside had been perfect for us to get to know one another in between dances. I couldn't believe how attentive Erik had been, fetching me drinks or food whenever he believed me to be in need of them. It was so wonderful to have a man hover over me, glaring at anyone who dared to interrupt our conversations about books, music, or ourselves.

'_It had been especially funny to see Lillian Dubois practically choke on her tongue when Erik refused to dance with her, despite her flirting_.'

I smiled at the memory. Lillian was what I considered a true Southern beauty, with glorious blonde hair, forget-me-not blue eyes, and a confident, charming smile. However, she always made me feel as though I were worse than dirt whenever we were in the same room together. That was why I couldn't help but feel smug when Erik merely told her to leave because she was interfering with his efforts to get to know a beautiful woman (meaning myself) better. Lillian's jaw had dropped before she pulled herself together and walked away in a huff.

'_Now she'll be sure to try and embarrass me at the next party_.' I sighed. '_Oh, well_.'

At least Mama was happy. She had seen me dance with Erik, and her thoughts were now likely drifting towards Erik proposing to me within the next few weeks…which I was sure would never happen. True, Erik had been very attentive to me, as well as charming, but that didn't mean that he wanted to marry me! Goodness, it had only been one ball! How could my mother be planning my marriage off of one encounter with a man?

'_Because that man has been the only one ever interested in you_!' exclaimed a voice in the back of my mind.

Well, that was true. It didn't help that Erik didn't recognize me from the day I had spent at his bedside, caring for him. Of course, I hadn't brought it up, and he had been feverish at the time, so it was likely that he thought that it had all been a hallucination. Still, Erik was unusually interested in me, so I suppose that it would be alright to allow Mother her fantasy of planning the perfect wedding, even if the event never actually occurred in the future.

Glancing across from me, I noticed that Papa was frowning at the floor, apparently deep in thought. His brow was creased, and he was running his fingers over his thinning hair, which meant that his thoughts were troubling him and would continue to do so for quite some time. Although he wasn't looking at me, I knew what he was thinking about: me and Erik, dancing together the whole night in each other's arms, and he didn't like it one bit, Papa being the protective man that he was.

I sighed again as I turned my gaze to the window of the carriage. The moment the Ball had officially ended, Erik had kissed my hand and bid me goodnight, which I eagerly returned. Just as Erik was about to say something else, however, Papa came up to us with a furious and disapproving look on his face. It seemed as though Erik wanted to say something harsh to him, but I touched his arm to stop him. Instead, my partner for the evening had looked at me and bowed, giving my hand another kiss before leaving me to take Papa's arm and walk towards the door.

'_How embarrassing that was_!' I inwardly winced. '_To think of Papa and Erik fighting in the middle of the ballroom, all because of Papa's protectiveness_! _I would never hear the end of it, and neither would my family_!'

Well, at least Philip appeared to have had an uneventful night concerning Mama and Papa. My little brother had been quite popular with the young ladies this evening, and he was now falling into a light doze as we rode towards home. From what I had heard from Mama, Philip had spent the entire evening dancing, chatting with friends and young ladies, and laughing up a storm over the silliest jokes. Well, his success at the Ball only made Mama happier about the evening, so I said nothing and didn't even try to tease my brother about being popular with the girls.

Instead, I leaned back in my seat and decided to take a light nap, a pair of green-gray eyes and a white mask dancing within my mind.

* * *

As Marcus directed the carriage back towards the house, Erik could not keep his mind off of Clara, the young woman that he spent the evening with. She had been so sweet, so gentle, so happy and so _willing_ to be with him that he felt he must have been dreaming. During the course of the night, he had repeatedly (and discreetly) pinched himself just to be sure that he was, in fact, at a public event with a woman on his arm (and in his arms), and that he was _enjoying_ it. 

'_I never thought I would find public outings enjoyable_,' he thought, watching the shadowy trees drift past his window. '_Never in all my years did I ever dream of a woman willingly grace me with her company and presence, dancing in my arms and talking with me about ordinary things like books and music_.'

Well, perhaps with Christine he would have talked about music…

He grit his teeth. '**_NO_**! _She is of my past_! _She made her choice, and it was that boy that she chose_.'

Now he was sure his fate lay with another girl, a girl with brown hair and chocolate eyes that stared so wonderfully up at him whenever they danced or talked. And the way she fluttered her fan when she was nervous or shy during their conversations…it was so adorable and appealing that Erik found himself looking forward to seeing it again and again. He wanted to know every little quirk and detail about her, just so he had the thrill of discovering them.

'_But I must move carefully this time_,' he thought with determination. '_I am no longer the Phantom of the Opera_; _I must win Clara as any normal man would_.'

And as horrible as it was for him to think it, it was a blessing that she had no other suitors that he had to compete with; she was completely his for the taking, with nothing standing in the way of his wooing of her…besides her father. The blasted man had interrupted Erik's near request for Clara to meet him at the next public tea party thrown by the Brooks', which was to occur in a week's time. In all likelihood, he would see her anyway, given that she had been at the previous one, the one where he had first (unofficially) met her.

'_And this time, the party is sure to be much more pleasurable and entertaining than the others_.' Of that, he was sure.

Sighing in contentment, Erik leaned back in his seat and watched the countryside go by.

* * *

I couldn't help but be thrilled as I readied myself for the Brooks' tea party; after all, if Erik were to be there, I would have to look my best. And of course, once I had realized the possibility of Erik being in attendance, I had practically attacked my wardrobe, searching for something that would hopefully keep Erik's interest in me. I spent hours rejecting one dress after another, thinking them too modest or too revealing; I did not want to look like the flirts who usually threw themselves at men, and yet I didn't want to appear as a shy old maid, either. 

Finally, on the day of the party, I settled upon one of my simple white dresses, this one with a blue sash that, when wound around my waist, would give me a fairly appealing figure. Mother had bought it for me quite some time ago, and I had never felt the need to wear it until now. It was very elegant, made from a very light, thin, white cotton fabric that would keep me cool during the day, and a trimming of lace around the shoulders and hem, which very much resembled a cloud. The blue sash added a touch of color that I liked very much, and secretly hoped that Erik would like, too.

As desperate as it sounded, I truly wanted his attention and affections; after all, what woman doesn't want to feel wanted and cherished by someone? I had waited so long for a man to notice and take interest in me, and I did not want to let that wonderful feeling get away because I didn't try to look my best for him. Hopefully Erik would find me at least pleasant-looking in my new dress…

I quickly shook any sad emotions from my mind and focused on putting my hair into place. It was difficult, since the two popular styles of today consisted of either wearing it up or wearing it down and I looked good in neither one. Finally, I decided to clip the side locks of my hair into a small ponytail at the back of my head, letting the rest of my hair hang down in a wave. My hair was normally straight, but if it dried the right way, it would have a light wave to it. I was rather proud of the fact that my hair wasn't bone-straight, as Mama's was; she called my hair 'stubborn' whenever I tried to pin it up in a bun, but I thought it was nice to have a bit of 'unique texture' to my hair.

Once I felt I was ready, I made sure to snatch up a straw hat, one that had a blue ribbon around it to fasten it securely to my head. That way, if I went outdoors (which I doubted would happen), it would keep the hot Southern sun off of my face. Feeling unusually happy and confident, I made my way downstairs and to the carriage, where Henry stood waiting for me.

* * *

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, Erik nervously smoothed his navy-blue vest so as not to let it wrinkle. To think, the former Opera Ghost, nervous about a tea party! Oh, how the Populaire's managers and staff would laugh to hear those words. And for him to be willingly in front of a mirror, trying to look his best would have had the Populaire's staff in hysterics. 

'_But those days are behind me_,' he thought, straightening his black coat and adjusting the neck ruffle at the collar so that it was straight. '_Now, something new lies ahead of me, something that I will not so easily release_.'

Clara…oh, how he hoped he looked appropriate for her! True, Erik had always done his best to look his best, his clothing always custom-made just for him and always consisting of the newest fashions, but today he had to look his _absolute_ best.

'_Well, as good as a man in a mask can possibly look_.' _That_ part he couldn't help but think in bitter tones.

But Clara did not see Erik as he viewed himself. She laughed and traded jokes with him, and allowed him to hold her hand in his or tucked in the crook of his elbow. She smiled at him and treated him as though he were any other man, as though he were…human.

'_Which is why I cannot let her go_,' he thought, grabbing an ebony walking cane with an ivory rose as the handle.

But unlike the situation with Christine, this courtship would be willing on both sides, with Clara freely giving him her heart. He would do his absolute best to sweep her off her feet and keep her high in the clouds as long as he had to, and he would attend any and all functions that she did so that she would never have that sad, forlorn look that he had previously seen on her face. A face such as hers did not deserve to have tears streaming down it, and a woman with her warmth did not deserve to be alone.

And neither did he. Tucking a long, thin box into the pocket of his coat, Erik went out to his carriage.

* * *

I was a nervous wreck by the time we arrived at the Brooks' mansion. Mama and Papa had decided to come with me at the last moment, and had managed to talk Philip to attend as well. Oh, I wish they hadn't come! How would I be able to speak to Erik alone if Papa tried to keep him away from me? 

'_Well, there is nothing I can do about it now_,' I thought as Papa helped Mama and I out of the carriage, Philip following close behind.

A butler bowed and led us straight to Martha Brooks, who was looked extraordinarily cheerful today. Papa and Mama stood in front of Philip and I, as was proper when approaching our hostess; Mama stood on the right while Papa took a place on her left. Philip stood behind Mama, and I placed myself behind Papa as I watched Martha shine her glorious smile on us in welcome.

"Oh, my dear friends!" she cried, holding a hand out to us, which Mama took in her own. "Richard and Camilla Savoy, you look marvelous! That lovely violet dress does wonders for you, Camilla, it truly does." The older woman turned her attention to my brother. "Goodness, little Philip, you've grown so much since I last saw you!" Martha's joyful laughter filled the air, and everyone around her, including my family, smiled in response to the sound.

A gentle hand, gloved in soft black leather, suddenly gripped my left elbow, and I could tell through his touch that it was Erik. I turned and found myself looking at the top of a blue vest with gold buttons. Goodness, he was tall, even taller than Papa! My head just barely reached the center of his chest, which was currently in my line of vision. I followed his shirt buttons up to the shirt and straight into Erik's handsome face and green-gray eyes. My breath caught in my throat as a smile tugged at his lips, looking as though he were pleased to see me. I couldn't help but blush and wish that I had brought my fan with me.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," he whispered in that marvelous voice of his.

I did my best not to sigh. Everything sounded so wonderful when he spoke in French! "Hello." My reply was soft, as I was still cursing myself for not bringing a way to hide the red in my cheeks.

"Would you care to join me for something cool to drink?"

I swallowed hard before accepting his offered arm, completely forgetting that my family was standing behind me. I doubted that they would miss my presence, though, as Martha was sure to keep my parents locked in a stream of chatter while Philip roamed around, charming young girls. Instead, I turned my attention to the handsome man leading me to a dark corner where I could spot two chairs waiting beside a small table. On top sat two tall glasses of lemonade.

As I sat down, I couldn't help but admire how handsome Erik was today. He was darkly mysterious in his black coat, which covered a white shirt and dark blue vest with gold buttons. Neatly pressed, tight black pants clung to his long legs, and polished black shoes clad his feet. With his black hair smoothed back to perfection and his face a golden tan, the white mask on his face stood out like a half-moon in the night sky. I saw a black walking cane in his hand, and couldn't help the elegantly carved rose that formed the handle. Goodness, what could a man like this see in a girl like me?

"You look lovely today, _mon cherie_." Erik's voice drifted over me, causing the heat in my cheeks to become hotter.

'_Oh, my, he could melt butter with that voice and his French accent_,' I couldn't help thinking. '_Thank goodness I'm sitting down_! _I wonder if his voice has this effect on everyone he speaks with_?'

I merely smiled shyly and took up my glass of lemonade, taking a sip of the liquid to occupy myself while I tried to keep my blush from spreading. I heard Erik chuckle softly beside me, and I couldn't help but look over at him. There was an amused smile on his lips as he also drank his lemonade, though his eyes never left me. I couldn't resist smiling back at him, which only made him put his drink down as he fully grinned at me.

"Perhaps, when you are finished with your drink, you would care to join me for a walk outside," he said, his grin turning into a soft, affectionate smile. "Before the day becomes too hot, I mean."

I did my best not to swallow my tongue. Go walking with him? _Alone_? That was quite a step forward in the realm of courting someone. Last night had merely been dancing and walking around in public, with numerous people surrounding us. Walking around another person's plantation alone with the opposite sex was…well, it was quite a bold move in saying how much affection one had for another. Still, who was to say when I would again receive this sort of attention from a man?

"I would like that very much…" I hesitated, not knowing whether to address him formally or not. I decided to be bold for once in my life. "Erik."

I saw him take a sharp breath, as though my saying his name put him under a spell. Perhaps it did, for the moment I set down my empty glass, his hand reached out to me, seeming to need it tightly wrapped in his. I slipped my bare fingers into his gloved ones and let him sneak me out of the room and into the bright Southern sunshine.

* * *

He had never been one for sunlight and daytime walks, but since his arrival in America, Erik had found himself enjoying them. Whenever he was unable to focus on his music, or when he was feeling restless, a walk through his new lands had become a force of habit for him. He found that he liked looking at flowers during their blooming seasons, and crunching through fresh snow was very refreshing and delightful to someone who had spent many years in an underground cavern. 

As a result of this newfound hobby, his once pale skin was now a golden tan, which some (like Martha Brooks) considered a good look for him. In truth, it was the tan that enabled him to look in the mirror more often. While far from being vain, Erik found himself liking his tan reflection a bit more and more, now that nobody fled from him in horror because of his face. Having had little self-confidence throughout his whole life, Erik found that he could now look at himself in the mirror without hating what was staring back at him from behind the glass.

'_And now I am walking through a flowery garden with a lovely young woman on my arm_.'

Erik couldn't help but smile at his present situation. He was sure that the two of them made a lovely picture, though he truly wished he could have someone capture it. Clara was a lovely vision in white, and the blue sash around her waist and on her straw hat perfectly matched the blue in his vest; he was glad that he had chosen the color, even though he hadn't known what she would wear to the tea party. And since they were surrounded by numerous kinds of flowers, trees, birds, and statues, Erik personally felt that it would be the perfect setting for a romantic walk with a lady.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked, his gloved hand still holding her right one in the safety of his left elbow. "We could return to the house, if you'd like." Which he hoped she didn't.

"No, it's quite nice outside today," she said, smiling up at him. "Spring is always a good time for walks; summer gets too hot, so I usually stay inside and mend my winter dresses or read in the library. Sometimes I'll go out for a ride on my horse, but mostly I stay where it is cool."

Erik chuckled. "I am not fond of heat, myself," he admitted with a smile. "A cool parlor and a glass of something cold while I am composing does a great deal for one on a hot day."

"You compose?" Clara asked, looking up at him with surprise. "How wonderful!"

"Thank you," he said, trying to look humble as he accepted her praise.

"Did you learn to compose in France?"

"No, I had no teacher. I merely taught myself the notes and rhythms, which I found in books." He looked at her, finding a rather wishful look in her eyes. "Are you alright, Clara?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him with a blush. "Oh, yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking how I wish I could go to France and see everything there." Clara sighed again. "I would love to see Europe…"

"Then why not just go?" '_Though I would rather take you there myself_,' he thought with an inward smirk.

"Oh, Papa wouldn't pay for me to go to Europe."

"Why not?" The sight of Clara looking up at him with sad brown eyes tore at his heart. "Surely he has enough money to do so."

"Well, yes, but usually girls travel there to go to school or visit family, not for amusement…well, not without their parents at least," she explained. "I might go with my husband after we are married, but other than that, there is no chance of it ever happening."

Erik gently stroked the hand she had tucked into his arm. "You will get your chance." '_I will make sure of it_,' he thought. Clara merely smiled up at him, thankful for his kind words.

* * *

As Erik led me back through the gardens and into the house, I spotted Lillian Dubois and a small flock of companions watching me. Lillian in particular bore a rather nasty sneer on her pretty face, and I knew that I would be the center of some sort of gossip that they would cook up this evening. Still, I couldn't help but feel happy at being the center of Erik's attention, especially when he set me down on a couch…and looked at me with his gorgeous green eyes. 

It was then that I knew…I was in love.

* * *

AN: Okay, kind of sappy chapter ending, but the best I could do right now. Please review! 


	7. The Start of a Romantic Courtship

Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: Well, here is another chapter. Thanks for being patient; the tech guys at work took forever to set up my new computer, and then the website didn't want to let me load and update the story! Anyway, here is a new chapter. I hope that it's not too sappy or boring, but if it is, please don't hesitate to say so in your review! Thanks, and I hope you enjoy reading the new chapter!

**Chapter 7: The Start of a Romantic Courtship**:

The remainder of my time at the Brooks' tea party was primarily spent with Erik, though my father tried to interfere occasionally. The moment Erik had escorted me inside after our walk, Papa began to head towards us, a rather angry look on his face displaying what he thought about my 'going walking' with a man. Thankfully, Mama was there beside him, and upon seeing what he was upset about, had managed to distract him long enough for Erik and I to escape from Papa's wrath.

The two of us ended up in a fairly cool, dark parlor where we sat and spoke about my wanting to visit Europe. I knew our family had some Irish blood in it (thus Papa's red hair), and so I desperately felt a pull to go and see the rich, green hills of Ireland. I also wanted to see the castles and villages in Scotland and England, as well as to see Italy and Spain. The temples of Greece were also on my list of places to see, should I ever get the chance.

As I spoke, I could feel my eyes glaze over while visions of different countries danced before my eyes. Erik, bless him, didn't laugh at my private dreams, nor did he tell me that it was impossible, as most men would have. Instead, he smiled at me with encouragement and proceeded to discuss the different places to visit while in certain countries. Apparently, Erik was a very well-read man in the way of travel, and I couldn't possibly get enough of his voice as he spoke to me. This was by far the most amusement I had ever had at a social gathering, and I did not want the day to end.

Unfortunately, all good parties must come to an end. My brother found us speaking together and warned me that Papa had been looking for me everywhere. Philip proceeded to wink at us before leaving the room, claiming that he would "hold Papa off" as long as he could. I maimed throwing something at him as he slipped out the door, leaving me once again alone in Erik's company.

"I really must go," I said as I rose from my seat. "Papa will have my head if he doesn't find me or if I fail to meet him soon."

Erik had risen with me, his face showing his disappointment. "Will you be at the event next week?" he asked. "I'm afraid I do not recall what it is, exactly…"

"Oh, the dessert social!" I said, smiling. "Of course I'll be there, since Mama and Papa go every year. It's much like a tea party, except the whole thing is held outdoors. There will be tents in case it rains, and it will mostly be cakes, pies, little pastries, as well as other sweet things to eat."

For some reason, Erik winced. "I am afraid that eating sweets is not my forte," he said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

I chuckled a bit. "Well, no need to worry about that. I know quite a few others who dislike sweets but will still be in attendance, if only because their friends and family members are going. And there will be plenty of drinks, as well as some ordinary, somewhat salty food to cut through the sugary taste one can get in their mouths."

The moment that last word was said, I could see Erik look straight towards my lips, his green eyes unexpectedly becoming unreadable. I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling rather nervous. Did he want to kiss me? Was he going to kiss me? I had no objection to being kissed by a handsome man in a mask, but I had no idea of his feelings about me. What if I read the look on his face wrong? I'd never forgive myself if I tried to kiss him and he rejected me because I had misinterpreted his actions.

Instead of acting towards a kiss, I blushed and looked down at my dress, smoothing out invisible and nonexistent wrinkles in the fabric. If he wanted to kiss me, he would have to be the one to step forward and do so; it was not a lady's place to be so forward in engaging in intimate actions.

To my surprise, one of his gloved hands slid under my chin and lifted it so that I looked him straight in the eye. A smile tugged on his lips, as though he found my actions charming and sweet instead of annoyingly meek. His green eyes were darkened to a deep emerald, a color that told of his desire for a kiss, but his willingness to wait. I had seen other men's responses to such acts of shyness, and they had mostly been frustrated when they saw a maiden was unready for the kiss of a suitor. Erik simply caressed my chin with his gloved thumb before sliding his fingers up my jaw, stopping at my ear before retracing its path back down to my chin.

"I know that you are not yet ready for my kiss, _cherie_," he said in a whisper that barely reached my ears. "So I will wait until you are comfortable with me before I try once more."

As his fingers slowly pulled away from me, I released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding until now. Erik smiled at me again before reaching into his jacket, removing a simple, small, long, thin box that was made of dark wood. To my surprise, he held the object out to me, his gesture obviously stating that it was a gift for me. Puzzled, I accepted the box and opened it.

Inside was the most beautiful fan that I had ever seen. The wood was the darkest ebony, and the cloth was of a silky white material as soft as baby bird feathers. There were gold patterns woven into the white of the fan, and two little gold tassels hung off of a gold cord that threaded through the handle. It was so elegantly made that I couldn't help but flick it open and begin to use it.

Erik observed me with a pleased eye. "Are you happy with my choice for you?" he asked, his eyes watching my hand move the fan back and forth. "I am afraid that I do not know your favorite color or what color of fan you needed, so I purchased this in hopes that it matched some of your dresses."

I couldn't help but smile. "It's perfect," I said, which seemed to reassure him. "I have many dresses with different patterns and styles to them, and this will go wonderfully with nearly all of them." I gave him a shy blush. "Thank you for the wonderful gift."

My thanks and encouragement seemed to make him stand taller, a pleased smile on his lips. "You are quite welcome, my dear," he replied, bowing while reaching out to take my free hand in one of his own.

I was never more surprised in my life than when he brought the back of my hand to his lips. As his skin connected with mine, I felt ready to faint from the rather intimate gesture he had given me. _How_ could a charming, clever, gentlemanly person such as Erik be unmarried? Was it because of his face? True, it wasn't very pretty to look at, but it wasn't bad enough to chase women off! Honestly, if a woman had fled from him because of his face, the girl must have been a fool or unbelievably vain.

Of course, I said none of this aloud. Instead, I relished the feel of Erik's lips on my hand as long as I could. Since Erik seemed reluctant to release my hand, we could be in this form for quite some time. However, a tap on the door interrupted our precious moment, and I was forced to (reluctantly) pull back my hand. Erik seemed to mirror my reluctance as our contact was broken, though he put on an indifferent look as my father walked into the room.

"Time to go, Clara," he said while glaring at Erik, acting as though he knew something horrible about the masked man that I didn't. "It's a long ride home, after all."

I couldn't hold back a sigh. "Yes, Papa," I replied. As my father held out an arm for me, I turned and looked back at Erik. "I had a wonderful time today, Mr. Rousseau. Thank you for the lemonade."

With a flick of my wrist, I opened my fan and fluttered it back and forth, hoping that I appeared flirtatious as I did so. It apparently worked, since Erik seemed to be trying to hold back a smirk as he looked at me. Instead, he replied with a quick bow to me.

"It is always a pleasure to be in your company, Mademoiselle Savoy," he said with a slight purr in his voice.

I blushed as my father made low growling noises in his throat. I gave Erik a quick smile as Papa practically dragged me out of the room and into the hallway.

* * *

From the porch of the Brooks' home, Erik watched in silence as the Savoy family drove away together in their carriage. He hadn't wanted Clara's father to spot him as he observed them leaving, so he had stayed out of their sight until they were safely tucked behind the doors of the carriage and fading into the distance. Once he was sure that he was no longer in their line of vision, Erik motioned for a servant to retrieve his own means home; he could use the nice ride home today. 

As they rolled along the road, Erik reached up with a gloved hand and touched his lips. He had almost kissed Clara today, but it had not been the right time; he had learned from past mistakes, and would do his best to remain patient until Clara was ready for his touch and kiss.

'_But the kiss to her hand had been a very nice touch_,' he thought to himself.

Yes, it had been very nice indeed. French men were nothing but debonair and chivalrous to women, especially women they were interested in pursuing. Of course, the French were also known to be good lovers of women, so perhaps the charm and seductiveness was almost a part of the French blood. Also, to use his seductive powers as the Phantom could prove a great advantage for him in wooing Clara and winning her heart. After a few weeks, he was sure no other man could possibly catch her eye or her love. Grinning, Erik looked out the window as vast fields of beautiful wildflowers passed by, causing him to think of what he could give Clara at their next meeting.

Lost in thought, Erik did not notice the pleased look on Marcus' face as he drove the carriage home.

* * *

"Clara!" 

I sighed, trying to ignore my mother's scream. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"Clara, if you don't hurry, there won't be anyone for you to talk with at the social!"

Of course there would be someone for me to talk with! Erik was sure to be there, so I knew I wouldn't be alone as I normally would! Of course, Mother didn't know that, so I had better hurry or else she would never forgive me.

'_Then again, I may never forgive her for making me wear this horrible dress today_!' I thought, glaring at my lap. Today, instead of wearing something in a pale blue or green, which I would have preferred, I was in a monstrous gown that I could not stand to see myself in.

Yesterday afternoon, Mother had come into my room bearing a rose-pink dress in her arms, acting as though it were a precious treasure. The whole thing was nothing but layers and layers of pink cotton and lace, resembling something you would put on a doll or a little girl. The mere sight of it made me wince, as any shade of pink tended to make me feel quite ill. I had liked the color well enough when I was a child, but now I felt like throwing the garment out the window and letting Papa's hunting dogs take care of it.

Instead, I became the 'dutiful daughter' and put on the ghastly dress. Mother had wanted me to have pink flowers in my hair as well, but since we were at the dinner table during that talk, Papa had intervened. I had felt like hugging the man when he said that I would resemble a bridesmaid, and that it would make me look terribly desperate for a husband in front of the other girls. That reason alone had prevented any more discussion on Mother's part, for which I was extremely thankful.

Now I looked at myself in the floor-length mirror, wincing at the sight. My hair had been pulled up into a rather odd knot at the back of my head, where white flowers had been tucked instead of the pink ones. Around my neck was a gold chain with a small, heart-shaped medallion on it, which fell just above my breasts (which was probably the whole point of Mother choosing it for me to wear). I probably looked fairly nice, but I felt like a doll of some sort, and I hated it.

'_What if Erik sees me like this_?' I thought, beginning to panic.

There was no possible way I was going to wear this horrid thing. Not to mention that it didn't fit right, which meant that it hadn't been made for me in the first place! Oh, goodness, was this a dress Mother had bought on impulse? Everything she purchased at a low price turned into a disaster, and I could not let that happen to me today, especially not if Erik was going to be there!

Swiftly making up my mind, I reached back and began to undo the buttons. I was going to wear a _decent_ dress, whether my mother liked it or not!

* * *

Tugging one last time at his collar, Erik took a deep breath before exiting his carriage and stepping onto the immaculate lawn of the Dubois plantation. He really did not know the Dubois' very well, but it was an event where everyone of social standing was almost required to attend, so he had come. And, given that this was primarily an outdoor social, Erik had decided to wear a dark gold coat over his white shirt and vest. It was the lightest-colored outfit he had ever worn, and he hoped that he looked acceptable in it…or at least, he hoped Clara thought him to look acceptable… 

Walking towards one of the food tables, he quickly scanned the offered food and inwardly winced. The whole thing was covered with cakes, pies, tiny finger-pastries, or soft treats such as marshmallows; there was no real food to be had at this table. So, trying not to sniff in distain, Erik turned to head to another table, but felt a gripping hand on his elbow.

"Hello, Mr. Rousseau," purred a female voice.

Looking down, Erik did his best not to wince and shake her off his arm. There stood Lillian Dubois, the eldest daughter of the Dubois children, wearing a pale, sky-blue dress that clung to her like a second skin, the skirt flowing down in waves to the ground. Erik was quite familiar with her; many times she had tried to engage him in a dance or conversation, but Erik had little patience for talk of fashions, weather, or just plain gossip. The girl was pretty enough, he supposed, but he truly felt no attraction to her, though he knew the opposite could be said on Lillian's part.

"Would you care to join me and my friends?" she asked, fluttering blonde eyelashes at him. "I would so love to have your company for the day."

Erik just barely managed not to roll his eyes at her. This was a good thing, as he saw a true vision of loveliness float across the lawn, clad in lovely peach cloth and ruffles and bearing a white parasol; a fan hung from her wrist by a golden cord. Her dark hair was elegantly pulled back and fastened so that it fell in slight waves down her back. She smiled when she saw him and quickly approached.

"Clara?" he whispered, admiring how the peach material brought out the color of her hair and eyes.

The moment she stood in front of him, he pulled himself out of Lillian's grasp and reached out for Clara's free hand, the one from which the fan dangled. As he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, he noticed that it was actually the fan he had given her just last week! Pleased that she had brought it, Erik pulled himself up from his slight bow and smiled at her. A delicate cough brought their attention back to the present and Lillian.

"Hello, Clara," the blonde said, obviously unhappy with the new arrival. "I was just inviting Mr. Rousseau to come have something to eat with my friends and me." She looked pointedly at Erik, as though attempting to make a point.

Erik looked over to Clara and saw the crestfallen look that he so hated to see on her face. For a moment, Erik considered slapping the spoiled girl who stood next to him, but instead decided to do something even better.

"I'm sorry, Miss Dubois, but I'm afraid that I have a prior engagement with Miss Savoy," he said, staring down at the five-foot girl from his much taller frame. Turning to Clara, he offered her his arm.

"Shall we, Mademoiselle?"

* * *

I could hardly believe it. Erik had refused to socialize with Lillian Dubois, had actually turned down her personal invitation, in public! And in front of me, as well! Shocked into silence, I merely nodded as I accepted Erik's arm, following him like an eager, silent puppy as he walked towards the food tables furthest away from the fuming Lillian. 

"Erik, you didn't have to do that," I found myself saying. "Lillian and her friends are quite well-known and quite lovely. You should have accepted her; you would have made many more friends through them."

Oh, how I wanted to slap myself for saying that! However, Erik truly needed to make friends with the other families in the area, and Lillian's group consisted of some of the best families in the county. Mama and Papa were close friends with Fredrick and Olivia Dubois, Lillian's parents, and couldn't understand why she and I didn't get along. Since Lillian thought herself above me in looks, as well as in manners and friends, she wanted nothing to do with me. I thought she was a spoiled girl, so the dislike was mutual on both parts. Still, that doesn't mean Erik couldn't be associated with her.

"I have no need for spoiled little girls such as her, _ma belle_," Erik replied, frowning slightly as we approached another table loaded with sweet things. "Mon Dieu, isn't there anything here that _doesn't_ have sugar in it?"

I laughed, which drew his attention to me, his eyes focusing on me as I tried to stifle my giggles. "Well, it _is_ a _dessert_ social, Erik," I said teasingly. "But the normal food is usually over there."

I twitched my hand and caught my fan, using it to gesture to the food table, since ladies weren't allowed to point. Erik sighed with gratefulness and began to head in the direction I had indicated. In moments, Erik was carrying our plates as we began a search for a spot to sit down. We found an open bench and a small table under some shady trees and settled down. Erik quickly left me to look after the food as he went to fetch drinks, soon returning with two glasses of lemonade in his hands.

After we had finished our meal of ham, potato salad, and cold vegetables, I risked a glance around the lawn. Everyone was having a good time and chatting, but I could see Lillian and her friends huddled in a circle, obviously having a secret talk about something. Getting nervous, I saw the girls in the group glare at me with open hatred, and winced slightly. Not enough so that people would see, but unfortunately just enough for Erik to notice.

"What's wrong, _ma belle_?" he asked, suddenly looking concerned as a servant girl came over to take our plates.

"Nothing," I said, avoiding his gaze as I fiddled with a ruffle on my dress.

Erik reached out and, with a gentle hand, forced me to look at him. "It is the Dubois girl and her friends, isn't it?" he asked as soon as the plates and servant were gone.

I merely closed my eyes and sighed. "Despite our parents being friends, Lillian and I have just never gotten along, that's all."

"You do not need her, _cherie_," he said, smiling. "You are smart, lovely, and kind. They are cold, spoiled, and think only of their social standing and their wealth. You are above them in so many ways that there is no possible way to list them all to you."

Erik suddenly reached out and took my hands in his. I blushed and couldn't help but smile at him.

* * *

Meanwhile, Erik himself was doing _his_ best not to blush in front of Clara. Never before had he comforted a person, as he himself had never had the joy of someone comforting him when the world had turned against him. But here he was, holding Clara's soft hand in his as he spoke of her fine qualities, of which there were many. 

'_Lillian Dubois could only hope to be like Clara_,' he thought as he stood, taking her with him.

Quickly tucking her hand into his elbow, Erik escorted his lady around the lawn, visiting the Brooks' and a few of Clara's female friends from other plantations. Erik was very thankful that Clara's associates wanted nothing to do with Lillian's, and was relieved to see that most of the girls were being courted or were married already. One girl in particular, Haleigh Winters, was quite humorous and had a fondness for jokes. She was also Clara's dearest friend, their homes within close travel distance so that they could easily see one another whenever they had a spare moment. To his surprise, Erik found himself in the company of good men and women who accepted him and were not out to catch him as a husband.

Before the end of the day, Erik presented Clara with an elegant mother-of-pearl hairclip, declaring that every young woman should have something beautiful for her hair. Her radiant smile was all the thanks he could have hoped for.

* * *

AN: Aw, isn't it romantic? I can just hear the sappy music in the background. If it's getting to mushy for people, please let me know! Thanks, and review! 


	8. Gentle Wooing Over Fits of Jealousy

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing.

AN: Okay, this website is being a pain and not really letting me upload the story. It's been doing that a lot to me, so I had to act resourcefully. In the end, I had to export a chapter from a different fic, cut out the old text, paste the present chapter from my disk,and use it to post this new one. So if anything looks all wonky (aka: weird/funny), please let me know and I'll try and fix it.

PS: I again admit to not being from the American South, so I know nothing about the traditions of the region either now or in the late 1800's. It's all part of my imaginings, so please don't be angry if it's not accurate. Other than that, please enjoy and review!

**Chapter 8: Gentle Wooing Over Fits of Jealousy**:

I could not believe how well the dessert social had gone. Erik had been so wonderful to me I couldn't help but think that it had all been some sort of dream. Our visit with my small group of friends had been short, but our walks around the Dubois gardens had been long and, for me, dreamlike. When Papa called that it was time to return home, I wanted to cry. However, a kiss on the hand from Erik quickly returned the joy to my heart, and I looked forward to seeing him again. Apparently he felt the same, for he said so as he handed me into my family's carriage.

"I look forward to seeing you again soon, Mademoiselle Savoy," he declared, giving me a flirtatious smirk.

I did my best not to blush, and instead began fluttering my fan in the hopes of ridding me of my blush. "Thank you for a wonderful afternoon, Mr. Rousseau," I replied, giving him a smile. "It would be a pleasure to meet with you again."

I wanted to say something more, but since Mama and Papa (in particular) were there, watching everything, I had to be as polite as possible, and not say anything that betrayed my feelings. Papa would have had an apoplexy if he heard what was going on in my head at that moment, I swear. Instead, I smiled and fluttered my eyelashes at Erik, who responded with a very dashing grin.

"Until next time," he said in a silky tone of voice that nearly made my heart stop.

"Until next time," I repeated as the carriage door closed and we drove away.

Secretly hiding the hairclip Erik had given me in the lace of my dress, I felt my head drift in the clouds the entire ride home, staying there until my head sank into my pillow that night.

* * *

Watching Clara ride away, Erik felt like chasing after it and inviting her back to his home for a brief visit. However, he knew that it would not be appropriate, and would have to wait for either the next social or public gathering, or a personal invitation to visit the Savoy home. Clara could not invite him, as it would be a tad scandalous to do so too soon into his courting of her. 

'_And I highly doubt that her father is going to do so_,' Erik thought to himself, holding back a snort of contempt.

Honestly, that man was beginning to annoy him. It seemed that every time Erik managed to get Clara alone for a little while, her father would appear out of nowhere. There would be an angry look on Mr. Savoy's face when he saw _who_ exactly was with his daughter, and would have likely dragged Clara away from him, had it not been for Mrs. Savoy holding him back.

'_But I still was able to spend a great deal of time with her_,' he thought as Marcus brought his own carriage around to stop before him. Yes, that was a good thing. And he had also been able to give her the hairclip that he had purchased for her.

But now the question remained on how soon he would be able to see her. The Brooks' would not be holding another tea gathering for another month, since they were supposed to be leaving to visit their children, so he would not be able to see her there. But wait, there was supposed to be another small party or ball coming up in the next few weeks…

And Erik knew just what to give Clara when she attended it, too.

* * *

I bit by lower lip in joy as I put my hair up for the afternoon. Of course, I was using the hairclip that Erik had given me, so it was even more special. Even better was that we had just received the invitations inviting us to another ball, this one meant specifically for the younger crowds. I knew that Erik was older than most of the men usually involved at this particular ball, but as long as he wasn't old enough to be anyone's grandfather, he would surely get an invitation. 

Humming, I quickly fastened the clip into my hair. I wore it in a neat, upswept style that Mama had taught me, and was pleased with the result. Even though I could not see the clip itself, I knew that the mother-of-pearl in the ebony wood would stand out against the darkness of my hair. It was a lovely gift, and I couldn't help but preen at my reflection.

'_Oh, goodness, I'm becoming as vain as Lillian_!' I thought, grimacing. The last thing I needed was to be like her!

Clucking my tongue at myself, I grabbed the fan Erik had given me and headed out to the waiting carriage, my mother already seated inside. A day of dress shopping awaited me, and for once, I was not going to complain about it!

* * *

Growling, Erik searched once more through his wardrobe and felt the need to throw something at it. There was nothing in his entire collection that he could wear to the ball in two weeks! 

"How could this have happened?" he snarled, once again searching through every piece of clothing his eyes encountered, hoping that perhaps he had accidentally missed something.

He thought that he had bought all of the clothing that he could possibly need, and yet there was still nothing appropriate amongst all of the shirts, pants, coats, and vests in his home! True, Erik knew that he had good taste, and it had served him very well in helping to win Clara's affections; after all, women loved men who had a good sense of style. He could see in her eyes how much awe he inspired in her every time she saw him in a tailored suit or outfit. The sparkle in her eyes when he looked at her showed that he was attractive to her, and that she was attracted to _him_.

As he paused in his search through his many articles of clothing, Erik's thoughts drifted to Clara. He knew in his heart that he felt the same awe whenever Clara appeared in one of her elegant dresses. Any color suited her, but he especially longed to see her in red…she was ravishing in red…

The word _ravishing_ caused a shiver of delight to go through him. Yes, ravishing was definitely the word to use when describing her. He would have to buy her something red to wear…which was why it was the perfect excuse to go to town today.

'_And to buy something new for my own wardrobe_, _of course_,' he thought as he pulled on a black cloak.

Calling for Marcus to bring the carriage around, Erik swiftly headed downstairs.

* * *

I couldn't help but let out a tiny sigh as I walked past several store windows. There were so many shops with lovely dress displays, but Mama refused to allow me inside to look at them. For some reason, she didn't think I could choose my own clothes correctly, believing that I would choose the wrong color or style for myself. I was upset with this notion of hers; I wasn't a child anymore and my sense of styles and colors wasn't _that_ bad! 

"Stop sighing, Clara!" Mother whispered out of the corner of her mouth, just so I could hear her. "I will find the perfect gown for you if it takes me all day, don't you worry!"

I was about to reply when a familiar voice called my name. Turning, I found myself face to face with a familiar, broad, _male_ chest. From the look of the clothes, it could only be Erik.

"Oh!" I said, stepping back. Goodness, the man was tall! Looking up, I found that he had a small, highly amused smile on his lips.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle," he said, taking my hand in his and kissing it. "I did not mean to startle you, only to speak with you, as I did not expect to see you in town today."

"Oh, it's alright, we were merely shopping for a dress for Clara to wear to the ball in two weeks' time," my mother chimed in, startling me. I had forgotten she was there beside me!

"Were you really?" Erik asked, looking at me. I nodded in reply. "Then I suggest that Mademoiselle Savoy wear something red." He looked at the deep, golden-brown dress I was presently wearing with a critical eye, causing me to blush a little. "Yes, definitely something red. As lovely as she looks now, I believe that red brings out the color of her eyes and hair, and goes very well with her coloring."

I blushed and turned to look at Mama out of the corner of my eye. I could see that she did not like the idea of this Frenchman telling her how to dress her daughter, much less how to dress her so that she caught the eye of one _particular_ man. Still, I knew that red was indeed a good color for me, despite what Mother thought, and Erik's words had caused something to stir in me that hadn't done so before.

"Do you really think so?" I asked, looking between them discreetly, just to see their reactions.

Erik smiled. "I do indeed, Mademoiselle," he said, causing my stomach to flutter at his words. Goodness, I loved the way he spoke!

"Then I suppose I will have to obtain a bolt of red material," I said, smiling at him in a flirting manner, which he returned with a sly wink.

I quickly turned my head to see my mother look at us both with a hostile glare that could have withered flowers. I felt my newfound confidence begin to fail, only to suddenly have a strong, gloved hand touch my arm, giving me the strength I so desperately needed.

"I believe I saw some red materials at one of the corner shops," Erik stated, tucking my hand into his arm as he used his charms on my mother. "Would you allow me to escort your daughter there, Madame Savoy?"

I could see my mother was melting under Erik's tall stature, elegant appearance, appealing French accent and his charming address to her marriage status. Her usually firm stance was no longer holding, and she seemed a tad unsure as to whether Erik's request was a good idea or not. Finally, after a brief moment had passed, Mama nodded her head.

"Very well, but be back at the carriage in an hour!" she firmly ordered me. "_One hour_."

I could barely keep back my glee as I nodded my head solemnly like any obedient daughter would. Not a moment later, Erik escorted me down the street to a shop and opened the door for me.

* * *

He would have recognized her form anywhere, even in the crowded streets of Rockford. However, he couldn't help but stare at the color of dress she was wearing; it was almost the same color as the coat he had worn to the dessert social event! Had that been a conscious decision, or mere coincidence? Well, no matter; the color was quite pretty on her, and Erik immediately followed behind until he was close enough to approach. 

As he neared, he spotted Clara's mother, Mrs. Savoy, walking beside her in a green dress and hat, apparently rebuking her daughter on something, all the while trying to appear that she was not doing so. Erik had decided that would be the ideal time to 'rescue' Clara from the present circumstance, and had quickly grabbed her arm to gain her attention. Thankfully, his tactic had worked, though he had been forced to use all of his charm to convince her mother to let her go with him to shop for dress materials.

'_But now she is here with me_,' he thought joyfully as they entered a dress shop.

True, shopping with women could take a great deal of time and patience, but as long as that time was spent with Clara, then Erik did not mind at all. Perhaps he would be able to find something she wanted but could not hope to have while they were walking around together? Using his powers of observation to watch her closely, Erik did his best to find out what she liked or disliked.

He studied her as she hovered over certain materials, savoring the feel of some while passing on others. Her brown eyes shone brighter when they landed on particular colors and turned dreamy at the sight of a material that both looked and felt perfect to her. From what he could see, Clara enjoyed the feel of silk and velvet, and preferred them in any shade of blue she could find. However, she also tended to pause over anything red or violet, which meant that she liked the color and knew she looked appealing in it.

Finally, Clara pulled out a length of red material that had a dusting of gold on it, causing it to shimmer. From the excited look in her eyes, Erik knew that she had found what she had sought. As she turned to purchase the material, the former Phantom knew exactly what to buy Clara as a gift for the next ball.

* * *

Once I was sure that the material would be put on my family's bill and delivered to our favorite dressmaker, I allowed Erik to escort me from the store with a gentlemanly flourish. I couldn't help but blush as he flashed me that seductive smirk of his, which caused me to pull out and use the fan that he had given me. When he spotted the fan, I watched as a pleased smile pulled at his mouth and couldn't help but want to give him a kiss on the lips. However, my thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, unwelcome voice. 

"Why, Mr. Rousseau, how nice to see you!" It was Lillian Dubois.

Grimacing, I turned to greet her and my heart nearly dropped to my feet. She was particularly lovely today in a rather fetching blue dress that matched her eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled up, allowing a few elegantly curled locks to fall beside her face and set off her pale skin. In her hand she carried a parasol to keep off the sun, which I thought was silly since she wore a blue bonnet on her head. However, she still looked lovely and I knew that I could not hope to compare to her, probably not even in Erik's eyes.

Apparently Lillian thought the same, as she gave me a brief scan with her eyes and sniffed in distain, obviously not liking my dress or its color.

"Hello, Lillian," I said, at least attempting to be civil towards her while trying to draw her attention away from Erik, who had stiffened next to me.

"Why, Clara, dear, I didn't see you there!" she said, obviously lying about not seeing me.

"You're looking well," I casually replied, trying to appear calm despite her hidden insults.

"Really?" she said, beaming a charming smile at Erik. "Do _you_ think I look well, Mr. Rousseau?"

I felt my heart drop to right under my feet, waiting for someone to walk all over it, of which I was sure Erik was about to do. What man _wouldn't_ fall for Lillian's charms and lovely face? She and Erik would make a beautiful couple; Lillian's sunny looks were sure to compliment Erik's dark one, while I was sure to take away from the seductive appeal that Erik had. Biting back a sigh I turned and looked up at Erik, only to be surprised by the cold, polite, statuesque look that he had on his face.

"Indeed, Miss Dubois," he said in a distantly polite voice that held no emotion.

Obviously that was all he was going to say to Lillian's question, which appeared to be unsatisfactory to her. Instead, she turned her blue eyes towards me, a mischievous glint in them that told me trouble was coming. I knew that look by heart, as she frequently used it whenever we met by chance, and braced myself for the inevitable by trying to remember if I had brought a handkerchief to use when no one was looking at me.

"My, Clara, don't you look lovely in that _old_-_fashioned_ dress style!" she exclaimed, fluttering her eyelashes as she tried to appear coy. "I swear that you could make even the oldest frock look somewhat _presentable_." She tilted her head up slightly. "Yes, even if it is _that_ sort of dull color, which, by the way, washes you out _completely_."

I tried not to lower my eyes in shame. Why did this have to happen? Just when I started to feel good about myself, just when a handsome man was interested in me and wanted to spend time with me, Lillian had to ruin it for me. Unfortunately, this had happened before. A few years ago, I had been attracted to a pleasant young man named Zachary, who been sweet and kind to me at several balls that we had attended together. We talked and laughed, and I thought that he had an interest in me

Then, one day, Lillian and her friend Becky Cooper, a light-haired brunette with green eyes and a slender figure, had swooped in. They began distracting Zach by saying how dull I was, and how my clothing was out of style and that they looked like the outfits widows wore just out of mourning. A few weeks after this had happened, I saw Zach dancing with Becky at a ball and not long afterwards, the two were engaged. It had been the last time I had been interested in a man, before Erik.

Presently, though, there was nothing I wanted more than to sink beneath the ground and weep. As I felt a cold sadness envelope my being, I watched Lillian's face swell full of triumph at making me look like a fool in front of Erik, which would not cost me his attention and affections. The way his arm moved beneath my hand made me think that he no longer wanted me to touch him, so I pulled it away and gripped my fan with both hands. I held my head high and gave her a bright smile, not wanting to appear as sad and pathetic as I felt.

"It was nice seeing you again, Lillian," I said, still smiling. "If you two will excuse me, I must be going; my mother will be waiting for me at our carriage with our purchases."

I gave a brief, distant nod to both her and Erik before turning and walking away.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Erik wished to do serious, deadly harm to a woman. The depressed look that settled in Clara's eyes showed that she wanted to cry, but her pride would not let her; she would return home and weep privately into her pillow, away from public…away from him. As she pulled away from his side and said goodbye, Erik wanted to reach out and strangle Lillian until she turned deathly blue. Instead, he gave her a glare as she shot a pleased look after Clara's retreating form. 

Suddenly, she turned back to Erik and gave him a flirting glance. "Would you care to join me for something to drink at a hotel café, Mr. Rousseau?" she asked, smiling and fluttering her lashes.

"No, I would not," he declared, not holding back his anger. "If you will excuse me, I have something _better_ and _more_ _important_ to do."

Before she could reply, Erik turned and raced after the woman who held his heart.

* * *

The world went on around me, but I didn't see it. My mind was in a damp, white fog, and I could feel my heart turning to ice inside me as I walked towards where I was sure my mother and carriage were waiting. However, before I could reach them, a strong hand gripped my elbow and swiftly pulled me into a dark alley, out of everyone's view. I could feel familiar arms wrap themselves around me, and a voice humming something soft, warm, and soothing into my ear. 

Suddenly, the fog lifted and I could feel the warmth coming back into my body. A wonderful cologne filled my senses…it was sandalwood, a scent that brought great comfort to me, and somehow, I could tell it was Erik holding me in his arms. It was his voice which told me so, that glorious voice that could make me melt with just one word.

"Do not listen to her, _cherie_," he whispered, one of his hands rubbing up and down my back as the other merely held me. "She knows nothing of true beauty, and I can see how _absolutely_ _beautiful_ and _ravishing_ you look every time I see you stand before my eyes." His hand stopped stroking my back and went to my chin, tilting it up until my eyes met his.

I felt time stop around us, frozen as his mouth descended towards mine. I could feel lightning strike us as our lips met, timidly exploring the new sensation we had created. It was my first kiss, and from what I could sense, it was Erik's first kiss as well. But it was still more blissful and magical than anything I had ever felt in my life.

A few moments later, the bells from the church jolted us back into the real world. Blushing with happiness, we separated, giving each other one last, lingering kiss before going separate ways on the street, the both of us looking forward to our next meeting. As I rode home, I knew my mother saw my red cheeks. However, she said nothing, for which I was very thankful.

* * *

With one kiss, Erik had felt everything come together. Nothing from the past mattered anymore; not the Opera House, not Paris, not even Christine. His whole world was tied up with the woman who had stood wrapped in his arms, her lips against his, and love shining in her eyes…all for _him_.

* * *

AN: Aw, wasn't that sweet? Thanks to a certain Southern reader for the idea involving Lillian and Clara meeting like that…brilliant! Let me know what you thought by reviewing! 


	9. Discoveries and Enchantments

Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: Well, here is another chapter. This goes out to a certain reader of mine who has been giving me advice concerning Southern Belles, behaviors, and courtships in her reviews. I'd name you, but the website police might try and take down this story if I did. But still, thanks a lot!

**Chapter 9: Discoveries and Enchantments:**

For days after the kiss I had shared with Erik, everything seemed to float by me in a haze. I could not stop thinking about how beautiful and how loved Erik made me feel, even after Lillian had thrown those horrible words at me in town. I suppose that being a man with an abnormal face would give him a sense of understanding and compassion for me, but the emotion that he had put into our kiss made me believe that Erik truly loved me.

'_He loves me…of all the available women in town, Erik loves **me**_!' I thought as I brushed out my hair.

I had no control over my actions or my mind. My thoughts constantly drifted towards Erik and all of the time we had spent together, even as my hands did things that I could never remember doing later on. As my mind was elsewhere, I still managed to eat meals with my family, sit quietly in the parlor with them for the evening, and undress myself before going to bed. How I did it, I'll never know, but I suppose that this was the norm for people in love.

Biting my lip, I tried my best to think of a way to meet Erik again before the next ball. There was nothing happening before then, so I would now be forced to wait for at least a week before we could see and touch one another again. In the meantime, I would have to keep myself occupied by reading, riding Sunny, or finding something to help time fly. It would be difficult, but I had done so before, and could do it now.

Grabbing the mother-of-pearl clip Erik had given me, I pulled my hair up and prepared to face the day. I immediately headed to my wardrobe and pulled out one of my white dresses, this time with a pale pink sash as the only spot of color. True, pink is not one of my favorite colors, but if it is _moderately_ part of my dress, I don't mind it. For today, since it was only a pink sash that wrapped around my waist, I was willing to wear it, if only because it added some color to the white material.

Once I was dressed, I quickly headed downstairs for breakfast, a smile on my lips that hadn't left in days. As I sat down at the table and dipped my spoon into my morning oatmeal, it slowly dawned on me that the meal was unusually quiet. Glancing up, I noticed that Mama and Papa were alternately glancing at one another before turning to look at me. The look in their eye was unnerving, so I carefully set down my spoon and dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin before speaking.

"Mama, Papa?" I said, looking at them. "Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?"

I knew that if I did not make the first attempt, they would likely never tell me what, exactly, they were up to. Thus, my question as to why they were so quiet when they should have been laughing and joking about nothing in particular. It was Papa who spoke first.

"Sweetie," he began, putting down his cup of coffee onto its saucer. "We need to talk."

My body instantly went cold. Papa only called me or Mama "sweetie" when it was something serious. On closer inspection of my father's face, I realized that he looked rather upset and angry about something, and I could think of only one thing that could make Papa's eye twitch like that, and that would have to be Erik.

Inwardly, I winced. "What did you want to talk about, Papa?" I asked, attempting to look both confused and innocent at the same time.

"Erik Rousseau," was his blunt reply.

"What about him?" I asked, trying to calm my nerves as I silently pleaded, '_please don't let him forbid me from seeing Erik_.'

"Clara, dear," Mama said, giving me a somewhat strained smile. "Your father and I have noticed a few things have appeared in your possession, such as your fan and hairclip. I know for a fact that they have not been purchased by you, so we both assume that Mr. Rousseau gave them to you as gifts of his admiration of you. Is that correct?"

I swallowed. "Yes, Mama," I replied, twisting my napkin in my lap.

"Clara, your mother and I hope you realize that, by accepting gifts from a man like Mr. Rousseau, you are virtually telling him that you are willing to accept any future offer of marriage made by him." My father looked me directly in the eye. "Are you willing to accept an offer of marriage made by Erik Rousseau?"

My mouth went dry. Me, marry Erik? The whole idea made my breath catch in my throat. Would such a wonderful man ask me to be his wife? He had been so kind and attentive to me, always being supportive when Lillian and her friends were cruel, and giving me such thoughtful gifts. Could those signs alone lead to a marriage proposal? Would I accept if he asked for my hand in marriage?

"Yes," I whispered aloud before I could stop myself.

My parents looked surprised at my answer, their reactions soon fading to a different emotion that I could not put a name to. However, they quickly looked at each other, somehow using their eyes to say what they wanted to say and keeping me out of it all. It was frustrating, but I got no chance to interrupt their private conversation before Mama turned to look at me.

"Well, then, I suppose that we might as well have him over for dinner," she said, looking down at her plate and sighing.

"It's just to get to know the man better, of course," Papa said at my surprised expression. "After all, we barely know anything about this Frenchman, and I'd like a talk with the man who has my little girl so high up in the clouds."

I merely smiled as I turned my attention back towards my breakfast.

* * *

Erik could only stare at the invitation in his hands, unable to fully comprehend what was neatly written on the expensive white paper. 

'_The Savoy's want me at their house for dinner tomorrow evening_?'

For the hundredth time that day, Erik repeated that thought over and over again, wondering if it was real or merely a hallucination. He could think of no reason for Richard and Camilla Savoy inviting him for dinner other than to discuss the possibility of his marrying their daughter. True, it was rather soon for them to be thinking that way, but then, Erik had been actively courting Clara for well over two months.

"Perhaps they believe I am moving too quickly," Erik muttered to himself. "Perhaps I have been too forward in my courtship?"

Well, that seemed rather ridiculous; after all, in some countries, the bride and groom met for the first time on their wedding day! Then again, Erik knew hardly anything about American traditions and courtships; perhaps he was going at a scandalously quick pace while courting Clara and her father wished to politely ask him to curb his forwardness in the matter.

'_But I cannot help myself_,' Erik thought as he paced the length of his music room, the invitation still in his hands. '_I feel so different when I am close to her, I feel as though I am actually human, a true man and not a monster_!'

A hand automatically went to the right side of his face, the side that bore the mask and his curse. He would eventually have to show Clara what lay underneath it, have to watch her doe-brown eyes widen in shock before she ran away from him in terror, begging for him to not come near her or her family again. He could not bear that, to see another woman he loved turn away from him in tears. It would break his heart, and this time, Erik was sure that it would kill him.

The feeling of something wet sliding down his face made him realize that a tear had escaped his eye. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, Erik took a deep breath to calm down. He needed to send a reply to the Savoy mansion as soon as possible, accepting their invitation. Most importantly, he needed to speak with Clara before their relationship went as far as he so desperately wanted, no, _needed_, it to go. He had to know if she could truly love the man that had once been the Phantom of the Opera, a man who had done such terrible things in his past that they would likely haunt him well into his future.

Before that, however, he needed to do a few things. Taking a deep breath, Erik went to his writing desk and pulled out a pen and paper.

* * *

I was on pins and needles for the rest of that day and the next. I could not believe that Erik would be coming to our home for supper, and I did not know how I managed to keep from working myself into a fret. However, I managed to keep my sanity by going through my wardrobe and finding a gown that I believed Erik would like. I knew that he liked me in red, but my new red-and-gold colored gown was for the upcoming ball, so I would have to wear something else. Instead, I pulled out a deep violet dress that that went well with my coloring (or so Mother said). 

The night of the dinner, I took well over two hours getting myself ready. A flower-scented bath and a great deal of fussing over my hair took up most of that time, as well as choosing the right jewelry for the occasion. After adding the fan and hairclip Erik had given me, I felt ready for the evening and descended the stairs to the formal dinning room, which was reserved for certain events such as tonight. My parents wore their best, though I hardly noticed; all I could think about was how handsome Erik looked in a black ensemble that brought out the crisp white of his shirt and mask.

Once we were all seated, the servants proceeded to bring out the various dishes as my parents made small-talk with Erik. First, Erik remarked at how close the two plantations were, and how he would have called upon their lovely home sooner and more often, had he known that our plantations were so near one another. Then Mama asked what, exactly, Erik did for a living, to which he replied that he was a composer who had made his money through the opera houses all over Europe. Papa had snorted at the idea of Erik's livelihood, but kept silent on the matter, instead turning towards the conversation elsewhere, for which I was very thankful.

Once dinner was over, Papa took Erik into the study, likely to 'question him' about his intentions towards me. Meanwhile, I played cards with Philip and Mama in the tiny game room that we had right next door to the study, trying not to think about what Papa might say to frighten Erik away. Finally, half an hour later, Erik emerged from Papa's study, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. Once he set eyes on me, however, the serious look vanished as a smile took its place. Seeing that our game was finished, Erik offered me his arm.

"Would you care to show me the gardens, _cherie_?" he asked, green eyes begging to say yes and take us out of there as soon as possible.

I quickly smiled and stood up, accepting his arm without a word or glance at my mother or Philip.

* * *

Never in his whole life had Erik been so happy to be outside as he was now. The 'talk' he had had with Monsieur Savoy had been less than pleasant, the older man practically telling Erik that he was not good enough to court Clara in any sort of way. 

"What sort of life can a _composer_ provide for her?" Mr. Savoy had demanded of Erik. "Clara is used to the finest sort of things: clothes, flowers, jewelry, horses, and food. How many commissions have you had while in the States? None, from what I have heard. What happens when the money you have now, money left over from a move from _Europe_, runs out?"

Erik had been unable to answer him. Not because he couldn't; no, if he had, there was no doubt that Richard Savoy would have called upon the American law to hang a murderer and extortionist. True, Erik was from Paris, but he knew from experience that people loved to attend pubic hangings, and he had no intention of becoming the center of such a gruesome spectacle. The look on Clara's face as he faced his Maker was barely enough to help him hold his tongue.

In truth, Erik knew that he had enough money in his accounts to buy half of the plantations in Rockford. He could easily treat Clara as she deserved, easily take her to Europe and anywhere else she would wish to go and see for herself. In his mind, Erik could only imagine her beautiful form in the sunlight glinting off of the Mediterranean as they sailed to Italy or Greece. Perhaps he could take her to Spain and teach her some of their passionate, exotic dances…

Shaking his head, Erik brought himself back to the present and to Clara's hands on his arm. Yes, he could easily treat her like a queen or princess, but there was still one thing stopping him from doing what his heart told him to. Glancing around, the former Phantom saw that they were in a secluded part of the Savoy gardens. Surrounded by a tall stone wall with numerous white rose bushes, it was a rather broad, empty space with a single tree shading a stone bench settled right in the center of the ring of rose bushes. It was the perfect place to speak to her alone. Leading her to the bench, Erik waited until she was seated, her brown eyes following him even as he sat to her right, his hands clasping hers. Nervously, Erik licked his lips.

"Clara," he said, looking at her delicate fingers wrapped in his larger ones as he spoke. "Clara, you must have noticed that I am…_different_ from normal men…that my _face_ is different from others."

She merely smiled at him, a kind, sincere smile that had not often been given to him. "I know it is, Erik," she said, blushing a little as she looked down at their joined hands. "And I now know that I must confess something that I have been keeping from you for quite some time…ever since the night we first officially met at the Summer Ball…which wasn't _really_ the first time we met."

He was confused. "I know we briefly spoke at the tea party at the Brooks' before, but…"

She shook her head. "No, Erik," she said, blushing even more in the pale moonlight. "I first truly _saw_ you and spoke to you when you were ill at your home…after the Brooks' tea party."

Erik's breath stopped in his throat, his heart pounding like mad in his chest. She had _seen_ him? A thousand thoughts and questions raced through his mind as his hand brushed his mask. She had actually seen his face unmasked and open to the world? His hallucination had, in fact, been real? Had Clara actually fed him soup and cooled his body and mind with her touch and presence? He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing emerged. He needn't have bothered, for it was Clara who spoke next.

"I know that you must feel separated from others, but I don't care what you look like," she said, looking up at him, a sort of desperation and love in her eyes as she pulled his hand away from his face. "You have treated me unlike any other, as though I'm special and beautiful, and…I love you."

The last three words had come out in a whisper, but he had heard them, nonetheless.

'_Mon Dieu_,' he thought, staring at her glorious face. This wasn't an angel, this was a _goddess_ sitting beside him, her cheeks like the red roses he so adored. She did not need to know of the past, for that's what it was, the past. In front of them stood the future, one which he so longed to share with her forever.

Unable to hold back, Erik wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him.

* * *

The world fell away as Erik crushed his lips to mine. I hadn't intended on telling him I loved him, but I knew that the mask he wore wasn't just to shield and protect him from the world…it was to protect the world from _him_, from the difference it presented to the perfect faces of those around him. But I had seen it, and I knew that it was only a small part of him; as the saying goes, beauty is only skin deep, and I had seen his heart and soul the night I had cared for him, the night he had been his most vulnerable to me and to the world. It was that same man who now had his lips pressed to mine, begging for me to love him the way he loved me. 

A large hand slid up my back and into my hair, removing the clip so that it fell in waves down my back. I sighed against his mouth, feeling his own smile that the reaction he had received from me. Erik's fingers proceeded down my hair and around to my shoulders, gently pulling me away from him as he looked me deep in the eye.

"My love," he whispered, one hand reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small box. "Lady of my heart, will you…" The box opened and inside lay a diamond ring set in gold, a rose design set over the top of the diamond. "Will you…marry me?"

I could feel my heart stop as I stared at the ring, the gem shining in the silver moonlight. Everything seemed to fade to white nothingness as I sat there in a rose garden with the masked man I loved. Glancing up, I looked into green-gray eyes that had turned to emeralds in the darkness of the night.

"Yes," was all I could get past my lips.

Those emeralds lightened with an inner fire of hope as he slipped the ring over my left ringfinger, his lips on mine, the two of us sealing our engagement as the stars above danced.

* * *

AN: Aw! Wasn't that sweet? Was it a bit too soon for the proposal? I couldn't help myself, though, it just slipped out. Don't worry, there's still more after this, I promise. Please review! 


	10. Shock and Disappointments

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing.

AN: Another day, another chapter for my glorious readers. I hope that everyone likes this chapter, since there's a bit of conflict happening in it. Please don't hesitate to review and give your opinion. Thanks!

**Chapter 10: Shock and Disappointments**:

An hour after Erik proposed to me, I felt myself come down from the clouds I had been in, my mind now filled with worry at what would happen once we were indoors. Erik, who had been escorting me towards the house, paused at the sight of my expression, his own eyes filling with concern.

"My love, what is it?" he asked, stopping us a good distance from the door so that no one could hear us. His large, strong hands clutched my own in a protective grip. "What's wrong?"

I began to nibble my lower lip in nervousness. "Erik," I said in a soft voice, my gaze focused on the ground. "Did you ask my father for permission to marry me?"

Silence filled the air, and I couldn't bear to look up into the handsome face of the man I wished to marry. It was clear that Erik either hadn't asked Papa for his blessing, or he had and the offer had been refused. Either way, I knew that my father would not be happy to hear of my now being engaged to Erik, especially not without his approval on the matter.

Strong, but gentle fingers touched my chin, wordlessly asking me to look up, so I did. Erik's wonderful eyes stared into mine, so full of love and tenderness that I wanted to cry. Instead, I bit back my tears and welcomed the feel of his lips against mine. I swore that I could hear my mother gasp from inside the house, but I didn't care. I allowed Erik's hands to grip mine and felt the ring he had just given me slip off my finger. Puzzled, I pulled out of our kiss and gave him a hurt look even as he gave me a reassuring one.

"It is only temporary, _ma petite belle_," he said, smiling. "We will keep our engagement a secret until I can talk some sense into your father's thick head."

I giggled and smiled happily up at him as he led me back into the house.

* * *

Erik only stayed long enough to bid my parents a polite farewell before leaving. It was clear that my father didn't like him for one reason or another, which was likely the reason that my secret fiancé wanted to leave so quickly. As it was, I admired that Erik gave my mother a polite kiss on the back of her hand, shook my brother's hand, and gave my father a polite nod before moving on to me. 

Our farewell was a testament that the two of us should be actors or spies. A quick bow and a seemingly innocent kiss on the hand from Erik showed his affection, though he had the nerve to touch the tip of his tongue to my skin. The tiny erotic gesture nearly made me faint in front of my family, but thankfully, I was able to keep myself upright long enough to flutter my eyelashes at him and give him a teasing smile. As soon as he was fully upright, Erik nodded his head to me and stepped into his coach, a gloved hand waving as the horses led him around the bend in the driveway.

After he had disappeared from view, I was ready to go to my room, but Papa's firm hand on my shoulder stopped me. Instead, he led me to his study, which I knew could not be a very good sign. A meeting with Papa so late in the evening, especially when we'd just had a guest for dinner? I held my breath as I took a seat in a chair across from my father, who was currently walking laps around his chair, and appeared to be taking deep breaths in order to calm himself down for some reason. I held my breath as I watched him calm his nerves enough to speak to me.

Finally, Papa stopped pacing and sat down in his large chair, his gray eyes looking at me with such intensity that I knew that I had done something to displease him. My suspicions were confirmed when my father leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, a deep frown finding its way onto his face.

"Clara," he said, not taking his eyes off of me. "Clara, I love you too much to not be straightforward with you on important matters, one of which has come to my attention."

I gave a hesitant nod at his words, but did not dare speak for fear of saying something that would only get me (or quite possibly Erik) in trouble.

"Clara, what exactly are your…affections for Mr. Rousseau?" Papa asked, looking me straight in the eyes.

At the mention of Erik, I felt ready to sigh with joy. However, Papa's expression told me that it would not be a good idea to do so. Instead, I bit my lip to think of a good and truthful answer.

"I care for him very much, Papa," I said. "And if he were to ask for my hand in marriage, I would not refuse him."

My father's frown deepened. "_You_ may not refuse him, but _I_ certainly would!" he said, standing from his chair with such force that it moved away from him. "No daughter of mine is going to marry a…a…_freak_ of a _composer_!"

"_Papa_!" I cried, my hands flying to my mouth in shock. "Papa, how can you say such a thing? Erik is not a freak!"

"Erik, is it?" he said, his eyes narrowing. "Since when do you address him by his Christian name?" When I didn't answer him, he grew angrier. "You speak his name too casually, child, which means that you and he are much closer and more affectionate than I thought. I suppose that it will be a good thing for me to forbid you from ever seeing one another again."

My jaw dropped. "Oh, Father, _no_!" I said, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. "Please don't do this!"

"I fear I must do this, dearest," Papa said, his tone softening a bit. "He can provide nothing for you; the man has no way of earning money to give you what you need for a future the two of you, and your children, might have together."

"But I love him!" I cried, my tears now falling freely down my face. I pulled out a handkerchief and buried my face in it.

"Love is all well and good, but I will not have you marry a man who may become a beggar within the next several years," Papa declared, his tone harsh and final. "I've heard about the money he spends in town on clothes and art for his home, and with no steady income for you to live off of, the two of you will be out on the street before you can blink!"

I could hear him approach my side, but I did not look up from the veil that my handkerchief provided. A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, gently griping it in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but instead did nothing more than crush my heart.

"Your mother and I have spoken, and we agree that this is the best solution, Clara," he said softly. "Your mother had thought that this could be a good match for you, but after seeing him be far too forward in his affection and having nothing to give you, we cannot allow this to continue. I'm sorry."

Instead of replying, I pulled away from him and broke into tears, letting my handkerchief fall from my fingers as I ran up to my room.

* * *

Erik could not believe the evening he had had. He had not only proposed to Clara, but had been accepted that very night! A woman who had actually looked upon his face and seen who he was had actually agreed to marry him! Closing his eyes, Erik leaned back and savored the moment as his carriage drove towards his house. 

'_I am engaged_!' he thought, smiling to himself. '_I have a fiancée, a kind, beautiful woman who loves me and wants to be my wife_!'

Oh, she would be an angel in her wedding dress. True, he had no idea what her ideas for a perfect wedding gown would be, but Erik was sure that whatever she chose would look splendid on her the day they were married. He would offer to help finance the whole event, of course, if Mr. Savoy allowed him to do so. True, Erik knew nothing about wedding traditions from America, but if Clara could teach them to him, he would do whatever was necessary to make their wedding ceremony as perfect as she could hope it to be. For now, though, he must go home and rest so that he could call upon her tomorrow and make a formal offer for her from her father. The man could hardly refuse him if Erik managed to speak to him as a man who wanted to make Clara happy.

Sighing, Erik watched at his carriage approached his house.

* * *

The next morning, Erik made sure to have Marcus pick up a bouquet of white roses and lilies for when he visited Clara at the Savoy manor. Once Erik had dressed himself in his finest attire (black coat, cravat, pants, and shoes with a silver-and-gold vest and white shirt), he practically flew into his carriage in order to see his future bride. 

The ride to the Savoy's was quite possibly the longest Erik had ever taken. Everything seemed to drag by as the horses moved towards their destination; the scenery seemed to stand still, and the air felt as though it had turned to glue, trapping Erik in some absurd sort of frozen time. Just when he felt as though he were going to loose his mind, he felt the carriage stop.

"We're here, sir," called Marcus' voice as he opened the door for his master.

Erik wasted no time in getting out and approaching the front door. After straightening his cravat and checking on the appearance of the flowers, he nervously cleared his throat and knocked on the door. A black butler answered, his face a mixture of confusion and, oddly enough, a touch of sadness.

"Mr. Rousseau," the man said, his voice hesitant and full of what could only be sympathy. "I'm afraid you can't come in."

The tall masked man could only blink in confusion before regaining his composure. "Then I will return tomorrow," he stated with a slight bow.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. and Mrs. Savoy says that you can't come in here or on the property ever again." Apparently the butler did not approve of these orders, nor of the next ones he spoke of. "And you're not allowed to see Miss Clara, either."

Erik felt his heart stop. Had the elder Savoy's heard about the proposal? No, Clara would not have told them of it until both of her parents approved of it beforehand. So what had happened since last night? He could only hide his anger, frustration, and disappointment until he gained an answer from someone.

"Very well," Erik replied in a soft voice. Before turning to leave, however, he handed the butler the flowers in his hands. "Would you at least give these to Miss Savoy and send her my deepest affections?"

_These_ orders the butler seemed all too happy to carry out. "Yes, indeed, sir," he said, accepting them. "I'll sure do that. These'll cheer her up right quick!" The butler then turned his eyes towards Marcus and gave the other black man a signal, abruptly jerking his head towards the side of the house. "You might want to talk to your driver before you leave, sir," he whispered before bowing and shutting the door in Erik's face.

Confused, the Frenchman looked at his butler/driver. Marcus merely opened the door of the carriage and motioned for him to get in, which he did. As the door was being secured, Erik listened closely.

"I'm gonna go talk to Jacob soon as I drop you off at home, Mr. Erik," he said, fastening the door. "I'll have answers for you right quick, I promise!"

Erik could only nod in reply, the rest of him too busy focusing on his aching heart.

* * *

The next morning, I awoke to find a bouquet of flowers sitting on my nightstand. Lilies and white roses, my favorite flowers. I had told Erik in one of our conversations that I enjoyed their scents, and he must have sent them over to me, if not brought them here himself. Suddenly, the thought of Erik being turned away at the front door made my blood turn cold. 

'_Oh, Erik, I wish I could see you and explain_!'

Tears began to flow down my face as Penny and her mother, Mrs. Green, came into the room. Both of them had a frown on her face. "Oh, Miss Clara!" Penny softly exclaimed, closing the door behind her. "Don't you cry, Miss! I'm sure the Master and Missus will see the light soon enough!"

"I wouldn't bet on it," declared her mother, who began to put the flowers into a crystal vase she had brought with her, already filled with clear water. "I heard them talking today about how Missus Savoy, now that she thought about it, felt that she didn't want a son-in-law that had a funny face!"

"Mama!" Penny said, apparently trying her best to soften the situation for me.

"Don't you 'Mama' me, young lady!" Mrs. Green said in a soft voice so as not to be overheard.

I bit my lip in an attempt to hold back my tears. "Well, then, my mother will be horribly disappointed since I won't marry anyone but Mr. Erik Rousseau!"

"Now there you go, Miss! I don't agree with them, either, but I also hear that Mr. Savoy said that not only was Mr. Erik a freak now, but he would turn out to be a poor freak later!"

I felt the air leave my lungs as I fell back into bed, the whole world around me going dark.

* * *

'_This morning has to be the longest morning in my entire existence_,' Erik thought as he paced the music room in his home. 

Marcus had left an hour ago to visit the servants at the Savoy home to gather information on the situation over there, and Erik had been left to amuse himself while he waited. He had tried to play his piano and organ, attempted to read several of his books, and had even tried to consider the meaning of the universe, but had cast all those aside in favor of pacing the music room instead, which would occupy both his mind and his body.

Finally, Erik heard the sound of the front door opening and of someone approaching the door to the music room. Rushing toward the door, he flung it open, revealing a rather surprised butler. Marcus blinked at him a few times before bowing and motioning towards the interior of the room. Not speaking a word, Erik stepped aside and let the older man enter and take a seat near the fireplace before shutting the door and joining him. Once the two were well situated, Erik motioned for Marcus to begin.

"Well, sir," he said, looking uncomfortable as he spoke. "It seems that Mr. and Mrs. Savoy don't take kindly to you seeing Miss Clara because of…well…"

"My finances," spat the former Ghost, gripping the arms of his chair in anger. "They hate me because they feel I cannot provide a good life for Clara!"

But Marcus shook his head, catching her master by surprise. "There's that, but it seems that they don't like you because of…well, because of…" Here Marcus touched the right side of his face as a hint.

Erik felt the whole world grow cold. Where Clara had openly accepted him, her parents shut him out. They did not want their daughter to marry a man with half a face, with a curse that would now doom him to live away from the woman he wanted to spend his entire life with. Erik could imagine that the Savoy's would force Clara to marry another man, one who was probably both rich and have a normal face, even if the man was old enough to be her father or grandfather!

"Now, don't you fret, Mr. Erik!" Marcus snapped, reaching out and slapping him on the shoulder. "I've got it on good authority, from her own personal maids, that Miss Clara won't marry anyone but you! She'd rather be an old maid and disappoint her family than marry another man!"

The last part made Erik smile a little. She would rather marry him or no one at all! It was hard to believe that Clara would wait for him until they could finally be together, but such a thing would take careful planning over a long course of time. They would also need a bit of help, though Erik was sure that Marcus and the servants at the Savoy mansion would do their best to help make the couple happy.

"Thank you, Marcus," he said aloud, looking up at his butler.

"You sure you're alright?" Concern filled the older man's eyes.

"Of course I am." Rising from his chair, the Phantom began to plot.

* * *

I could hardly bear it. It had been three days since I had seen Erik, and it took all of my willpower not to tear out my hair and run out the door, screaming in despair and frustration. Mama and Papa refused to allow me out of the house on my own, forcing Penny to accompany me everywhere to be sure that I never saw Erik. It hardly mattered, though, since after that day, I had only once been to the creeks to soak my feet and think about Erik. God, how I missed him! I could hear his glorious voice whenever I closed my eyes, and when I slept, his hands touched my face as gray-green orbs stared down at me. All this caused me to wake up with tears streaming down my face, my heart aching as I thought of each moment we had spent together. 

Finally, I couldn't take it. I knew I was at my breaking point when I saw Erik's full, unmasked face in my sleep, begging me to help him and to never leave him because he needed me. That had happened last night, and the thought of leaving Erik alone and unloved in the world made me want to lash out at anyone and anything that stood in my way. I no longer cared what my parents thought of my doing something against their wishes; they had stolen away my happiness and my dreams of marrying someone who loved me when no one else would.

'_To hell with this_,' I thought, somewhat shocked at my use of profanity. Well, I was angry, so I had every right to curse.

Getting out of bed, I grabbed the first dress I could find and rang the bell for Penny to come and help me dress. The darling girl was at my side in moments, bringing me a quick breakfast of fresh fruit, a roll with honey on it, and a good cup of tea. I ate it all without tasting it, waving the dirty dishes away for her to take back to the kitchen. Upon returning, she brushed out my hair, styled it up, and helped me with my corset and dress in record time. Penny knew I was in a hurry from the determined look in my eyes, a look that flashed back at the two of us from my vanity mirror, and she was not going to question me or my plans today. Once I was fully dressed, I ordered her to have the carriage sent to the back door so that I would not wake my parents, for they were still abed and would not rise for some time. Penny quickly raced downstairs to carry out my orders

Listening carefully for any noises from my parents' bedroom and hearing none, I quietly led us downstairs, peeking around to be sure that we were not caught. As it was, it would be far easier for me to beg my parents for forgiveness afterwards than ask for permission to go out. Besides, as much as I wished to see Erik, this particular visit was to another house, one that might just be useful in helping us in achieving what we both tried so hard to find.

Once we were in the carriage, I told Henry to drive as quickly as possible so that my parents would not be able to catch up with us. As the house faded behind us, I realized that both Henry and Penny were looked at me in a questioning manner.

"What is it?" I asked, feeling rather irritable after all that had happened and from a lack of sleep.

"We were just wondering where we were going, Miss Clara," Penny said, blushing as she looked down at the floor of the carriage.

I sighed, annoyed with myself for being so rude and foolish. "Head towards the Winters' home," I said, closing my eyes. "And don't forget to wake me before we get there, Penny, I don't want to be dazed and puffy-eyed when I talk to Mrs. Winters."

The last thing I heard was Penny agreeing to do so before I fell asleep.

* * *

AN: Does anyone else smell a plot brewing? And I'm sorry for the angst/drama with the whole proposal deal, but it's for the best…story-wise. Please review! 


	11. The Hatching of Plots

Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: I know I was mean by putting a big road block in Erik and Clara's happy moment, but it was necessary to keep people's interest. Thus, the whole thing with Clara's parents not liking Erik. Enjoy this chapter full of sneakiness!

**Chapter 11: The Hatching of Plots**:

I was never so happy to see Haleigh's house in all my life! Although my childhood friend was married with three little ones (and several years younger than I am), she always made it clear that if I didn't visit her, she would never forgive me. Also, even though her husband, Jerald, and I had only met a few times since the wedding, he was very kind to me and offered the house as a means to escape my parents for a day or two, should I need it. Needless to say, today was one of those days.

The Winters' mansion wasn't large, as some would imagine a Southern house to be, but it was still quite spacey, and had all of the public and dining rooms required for a plantation, as well as a few guest rooms. Cotton and wheat were grown here, and the servants, though few, were hardworking and loyal to my friends, and were eager to please everyone as much as they did Haleigh. This was why an enthusiastic stableboy came out to greet us and take Henry to the barn, where a few of the stablehands were playing dice or cards. I waved Penny off after them and stepped through the front doorway.

I was barely through the door when Haleigh raced up and swept me into a giant hug. Wisps of red hair had escaped the bun she had tied it into, and her dazzling green eyes were set off by the lovely dark green gown she wore. Freckles were lightly sprinkled over her cheeks and nose, giving her a sweet look that must have been the reason why Jerald had married her in the first place. Holding back my amusement, I returned Haleigh's hug and tried not to giggle as she released me, dragging me towards the parlor and shouting for tea along the way. I quietly listened to her babble on about how sweet the new twins were, and how her daughter, Lena, was walking already and had to be watched every minute. Since I loved hearing about Haleigh's family, the chatter didn't bother me at all, and made me feel more amused than annoyed. Today, it kept me from losing my sanity as I thought about Erik and our secret love and engagement.

"Clara, are you feeling alright?" my friend suddenly blurted out, startling me from my listening trance.

"Of course I am! Why do you ask?" I tried to stay calm, since I didn't want to alarm Haleigh; after all, she had just given birth to twin boys a few weeks ago.

"Well, usually you're halfway through the tea by now and asking me to pass the cucumber sandwiches," she said, scanning me up and down as she set aside her tea cup. "Did your mother do or say something silly to you again?"

I sighed and set down my own cup as well, knowing that I wasn't acting the way I usually did when visiting. For instance, I was still on my first tiny cake and not even halfway through my first cup of tea. Also, I usually started cooing over Lena's latest accomplishments or pressing for more details about the new twins. Now that she had brought the matter up, though, it was time to tell her about my problem.

"Haleigh, do you remember Erik Rousseau?" I asked, looking down at my hands.

"Oh, the Frenchman!" she exclaimed, smiling broadly. "I liked him very much when I met him at the dessert social. He is so handsome and charming, Clara, you really are lucky to have him."

A smiled tugged on my lips before the memories of recent events cut it away. Yes, I was a lucky woman; I had the attentions of one of the most sensitive, caring, handsome men in the South, and I couldn't be with him! Unable to hold back any longer, I burst into tears, letting out the sorrows that I had tried to push down at home.

"Oh, Clara, what happened?" cried Haleigh.

Over the course of an hour, I managed to explain the whole thing to Haleigh, who wrapped her arms around me and tried to comfort me as best she could. She admitted to having heard about Erik woo me through a rather brief courtship, but was surprised to hear about him proposing so soon. When I spoke about my parents forbidding the marriage based on Erik's 'lack of income,' and of how Mama and Papa didn't want a 'freak of a Frenchman' to marry their daughter, Haleigh became enraged.

"The nerve of them!" she cried, getting up and pacing. "They have no right to judge him that way! Mr. Rousseau has acted kindly and honorably towards you this whole time, courting you as he should, and they seem determined to think the worst of him!"

I sniffed and dabbed my face with a handkerchief that Haleigh had been kind enough to provide for me. "I know," I said, my voice sounding stuffy. "But what can I do? Mama and Papa insist that Penny accompany me everywhere I go, and I'm sure they ordered the other servants to keep a close eye on me so I won't be able to sneak out to see Erik." I blew my nose very properly and delicately, as taught, and tried not to cry any harder than I already was.

"Well, we'll just have to think of something," my red-headed friend said, a determined look on her face. "After all, you deserve to be happy, despite what your foolish mother and father might think, and I intend to help you in every way that I can!"

Dabbing my eyes, I looked up at her. "How?" I asked, puzzled.

"How what?" asked a male voice from the doorway.

"Jerry!" Haleigh cried, racing to her husband.

I couldn't help but smile at the sweet picture they made before my smile turned to tears. I could imagine Erik and I standing like that, our arms wrapped around one another as we gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. I could almost feel his arms around me now, even as my mind drifted back to happier times and places where Erik had showered me with love and attention. It had all been so magical…

"Clara?"

Jerking back to real life, I glanced up and saw both Jerald and Haleigh looking at me with concern, though Haleigh looked even more worried than her husband.

"I'm fine!" I quipped, reaching for my tea and sipping it.

Once it was gone, I grabbed what was left of the tiny cake I had begun earlier and stuffed it into my mouth, not caring if I seemed uncivilized as I did so. Chewing and swallowing it down, I grabbed another cake, trying not to cry as I consumed it. As I reached for a third, the plate was whisked out of my reach and Haleigh took my tea cup from me, handing it to Jerry as I burst into tears once more.

"Oh, dear, you know that stuffing yourself with tea and cakes isn't the right way to go about this," she crooned to me as her arms wrapped around my body. "All that'll do is give you a bit of roundness in the hips, and then where would you be? Besides, I have a feeling that it'll be alright in the end. You'll see."

As I wept, Haleigh made soft, soothing noises into my hair, acting as though I were her little girl and not someone else's. Once I had calmed down, I looked up and saw Jerald standing there, looking at me with sympathy in his brown eyes. Although there was nothing truly remarkable about Jerry's features, he was a good man that possessed the uncanny ability to see the hidden significance of any given situation. The look in Jerry's eyes showed that he knew something was wrong within Erik's courtship of me, but he didn't know what.

"Would someone please explain what's happening?" he asked in a soft tone of voice. He didn't know the details of my troubles, but at least I hadn't frightened him off with my tears.

"Clara's parents won't let her marry that charming Frenchman we met at the social a few weeks ago," Haleigh said, her arms still around me as I dried my tears. "It appears that they dislike the fact that he's a musical genius and wears a mask."

Jerry snorted. "Forgive my saying so, Miss Clara, but I'm not thinking too kindly thoughts towards your parents right now."

"Join the party," Haleigh muttered as she took the soggy handkerchief from me and handed it to her husband, who grimaced as he accepted the bit of cloth.

I giggled as I watched him carry it into the hallway and hand it to a passing servant, who accepted it and scurried off after Jerry gave him a few instructions. As he walked back towards us, Jerry removed a large gentleman's handkerchief from a pocket and gave it to me, which I accepted with a nod.

"Will Mr. Rousseau be at the next ball, do you think?" she asked, looking at me.

I nodded. "I had bought my newest dress materials based on his suggestion," I replied, my tone soft and sad.

"Well, then, I guess I'll just have to do my best to get the two of you together at the ball," Haleigh said, beaming happily. "No, don't you two question me about it, you'll just ruin everything!"

Jerry and I both looked at each other and sighed.

* * *

The evening of the ball, I was a complete wreck. I was incredibly nervous about seeing Erik and not being able to speak to him, as Mama and Papa seemed determined that I was to stay by their sides all night. I secretly believed that the only two ways I could escape them was if a man asked me to dance (which I knew would never happen), or if I was securely left in the company of a great many friends (or chaperones, as my parents saw them). 

Luckily, Haleigh had planned for this ahead of time. After she convinced Jerry to join in her crusade against my parents, my red-headed friend had sent out little notices to all of the ladies and gentlemen in our little 'group' so that they could help me as well. Replies had come rushing back in with nearly everyone agreeing to help, and to keep the little coupe a secret to themselves. By the time I had returned home, I felt far happier than when I had left. True, I had to explain to my parents where I had been all day, but since I had been with people that both Mother and Father trusted and liked, it had caused no difficulties other than my receiving a lecture on lady-like behavior.

Presently, though, I sat in front of my vanity, watching Penny pull my hair back and secure it with little ruby hairpins. The clip and fan that Erik had given me were safely tucked away so that my parents would not be able to take them away from me. Mother had asked for one of the servants to retrieve them for her, but I had hidden them in a secret place in my desk, one which only I knew about. I had noticed that some of the things in my drawers had been disturbed, and was glad that I had managed to think ahead of time so that Erik's precious gifts would always be safe.

"You look lovely Miss Clara," Penny said as she tucked the last strand up.

I couldn't help but preen as I looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Thank you, Penny."

It was true. The red and gold colors in my dress had made me into what I had always longed to be: a Southern beauty. It was a silky, red, velvet-like material, and it appeared to have been dusted with gold, causing it to shimmer and sparkle. The neck and off-the-shoulder sleeves were trimmed with gold lace, and I felt as though I were truly beautiful.

"Clara!" my mother screamed up the stairs. "It's time to go!"

Sighing, I slowly stood and made my way to the stairs, descending the steps until I stood before my parents. To my amazement, Mother, looking elegant in gold velvet, looked at me with pride and happiness, as though I had become the Belle that she had always wanted. Papa just gave me the "happy-to-be-this-girl's-father" smile that he always wore whenever he saw me in a fancy dress. I could almost feel myself glowing as Mama took Papa's arm and led me outside and into the carriage. Looking up as we drove off, I focused on the upstairs bedrooms and gave a small wave out the window. Poor Philip, he would not be attending with us, due to a bad cold.

We finally arrived at the town ballroom, our carriage joining the line approaching the front doors. When it was our turn, the door opened and a doorman helped Mama and I out, Papa trailing behind us. Entering the ballroom, I took a deep breath, sincerely glad that I hadn't brought a shawl or wrap tonight. The heat was stifling, even though all of the windows and doors leading outside were open. There were far too many candles and lanterns lit, but the lighting made it easier for me to spot my friends in the large, chaotic press of gowns.

I felt a tug on my left arm and turned around. There stood Haleigh and Jerry, pleased smiles on their faces. Haleigh was lovely in white and emerald green silk and lace, and Jerry looked quite fashionable in deep brown velvet. As I opened my mouth to greet her, I saw Haleigh's mouth and head twitch slightly to her left, secretly telling me that I needed to come with her at once.

A quick turn of my head showed that Mama and Papa were busy socializing with friends and would not likely miss me if I left. Still, if I didn't tell them where I was, they would search for me, so it was better to err on the side of caution.

"Mama, I'm going to go with the Winters', if that's alright," I said, politely tapping my mother on the shoulder. She merely waved me off with a slight nod, not even attempting to stop her conversation.

Happily free for the evening, I quickly followed my friends into a far corner of the room. Quite a number of my friends were there, and all of them welcomed me with joyful smiles. We talked for quite some time, until one of the girls, Kari Marshall, tapped me on the shoulder and whispered that my parents were watching. Haleigh then discreetly nodded towards our gentleman friends, which was the signal that one of them was to ask me to dance. Part one of her plan was put into action.

The whole of Haleigh's plan was quite simple. To throw off my parents' guard, I would dance with as many of my gentlemanly friends as possible. After Mama and Papa were sure that I was no longer "interested" in Erik Rousseau, and was apparently having a marvelous time with my friends and 'suitors', my parents would stop looking in on me. Eventually, they would leave me alone for the rest of the evening. Once I was free, one of our male friends would take me to go and see Erik, who, Haleigh informed me, she had contacted and given strict instructions to concerning tonight.

It was a brilliantly simple plan, and should have been easy to carry out, but it wasn't. As much as I liked my gentlemanly friends, none of them compared to the way Erik made me feel whenever we were together. I smiled and laughed when I ought to during dances and conversations, but my heart and mind weren't really there; all I could think about was seeing my Erik again and wanting him to hold me in his arms as he whispered to me in his wonderful voice.

Finally, Haleigh gave a cough. "Thomas, I dare say that Clara looks absolutely flushed!" she said in a laughing tone. "Why don't you take her outside for a breath of fresh air?"

Instantly, Thomas offered me his arm and led me outside, straight into the maze of bushes that formed the gardens behind the ballroom. I followed him through twists and turns, beginning to get dizzy before I found myself pushed into a very familiar pair of male arms.

* * *

Erik could hardly believe that she was here in his arms. He had sunk himself into his scotch bottle since that dreadful day at the Savoy mansion, but after receiving a note from a woman named Haleigh Winters, he had pulled himself back to the way he had been since meeting his beloved Clara. 

The message had contained a plan of Mrs. Winters' formulating, a plan to reunite him with his fiancée at the next ball. Once he had managed to scan through the entire thing, Erik had immediately sobered himself and sent a reply, saying that he would do everything commanded of him in order to see his love once more. Mrs. Winters had replied that he would merely have to sneak into the ballroom's gardens, hide himself, and spend an hour or two waiting at a specific location for someone to bring Clara to him. Simple, but damned frustrating for a man in love. Still, he would do it if it meant seeing Clara again.

Now he sighed, burying his face in her neck as she gasped in delight, her arms wrapping around his neck even as his closed around her waist. It was all Erik could do to keep himself from whisking her away from here and to his home, but he held himself…barely.

"Oh, my love," he whispered into her ear, the tip of his nose running up and down her neck, breathing in her scent as it moved. "How I have missed you."

"Erik," she gasped as her fingers moved to caress his neck and tangle in his dark hair. "Oh, Erik!"

"Marry me," he said, brushing his lips under her right ear. God in Heaven, she smelled divine!

She laughed, a heavenly, perfect sound to his ears. "I already said I would, Erik."

Clara's words were followed by a soft kiss near the edge of his white mask, right where it stopped near his ear. The contact made him gasp, a certain part of his body reacting to the loving caress of her lips against his skin. Biting his lip, Erik managed to control himself, forcing down his need for her until he felt ready to speak again without any strain in his voice.

"Run away with me, then," he said, pulling back to look deep into her dark brown eyes. "I can take you anywhere, give you anything you desire! Please, just say…"

"Yes," was the soft interruption.

Erik inhaled sharply. "You will?" he asked, staring down at her.

Clara merely smiled up at him. "I love you, Erik," she said. "I can't bear the thought of us being separated simply because of what my family thinks of your face. If I cannot have you, I might as well be nothing."

Erik could only beam with joy before claiming her lips with his. As he began tracing his tongue along her mouth, he heard her sigh with pleasure as she opened them to him. He was only too eager to show her how true Frenchmen kissed the women they loved.

* * *

When Erik's tongue entered my mouth, I thought that I had entered both the gates of heaven and the burning fires of hell. A searing heat flowed straight through me as our kiss deepened, Erik trailing his hands down my back and to my sides, pulling me closer as he caressed my mouth with his own lips and tongue. I felt a fire burn in my stomach, shooting straight into my heart like an arrow and stealing my breath away. Just as I felt ready to faint, Erik pulled his head back, letting us both catch our breaths. A moment later, my betrothed opened his lips, this time to speak. 

"We must plan very carefully, _ma ange_," he whispered, his hand drifting once more to my back. "It would not do for us to be caught by your parents, or worse."

"Worse?" I asked, puzzled.

He smiled faintly. "Knowing your family, they would likely say that I had stolen you away, kidnapped you and forced you to be my bride."

I sighed, knowing that very well could be the case. "Well, I supposed I could get some of my friends to help…"

Erik looked doubtful. "Are they trustworthy?" he asked, green eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Would they not say something to the police after you are discovered missing?"

I bit my lip, knowing full well that some of my friends could indeed break under the pressures of my parents, the law, and their own families. No, I could not get the whole group to help me with something this large. It was one thing to secretly help me meet with a man in the garden for one night; it was something else to help me plan my elopement with a man they didn't even know!

"Haleigh," I said, looking up at him. "Haleigh and her husband, Jerald, or Jerry, will help us."

Erik chuckled. "If they can put something like this together, then they would be very helpful indeed." He gave me another kiss before pulling away from me completely. "Now you must return before you are missed." He kissed me again. "Until later, my love."

I nodded before leaving for the edge of the tall hedge which we had hidden behind. Thomas stood quite a way off so as not to interrupt of eavesdrop. I walked up and touched his arm, and he turned around, smiling as he offered me his arm so that he could escort me inside. Inwardly, I sighed at having to have Haleigh once again plan another secret rendezvous between me and the man I intended to marry. I could only hope that she would be willing to do this for me, as any true friend would.

* * *

AN: Review and I'll post faster! I swear! 


	12. Emptiness

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing.

AN: This is kind of a "filler chapter" where we get to see some emotional things before the real plotting begins. Therefore, I hope people enjoy reading it and will review once they're done, whether they liked it or not. Thanks!

**Chapter 12: Emptiness: **

Without Erik there beside me, the rest of the ball was horribly long and boring. I desperately wanted him there to dance with or to have a decent conversation with to pass the time, but he was gone. Haleigh had told me that she had written to him and said when and where to meet with me, but not to remain afterwards. She explained that if he were seen here, at the same event I was invited to, my mother and father would likely cause a huge scene. Now I had to spend the entire evening watching my friends dance and talk with their partners while I mourned my absent love.

Feeling depressed, I realized I had reverted back to doing what I had done before meeting the man of my dreams. Instead of dancing with a handsome masked man, I was now compelled to sit like a wallflower, have a plate of food or a cup of punch in my hand, and watch everyone around me twirl and laugh around the dance floor. All around me were couples dancing, laughing, and enjoying themselves while I wanted to sink into the floor and die. True, I had spent the previous half of the ball dancing with a few gentleman friends, but they had mostly done it as a huge favor to Haleigh; in truth, all of the men I had danced with were courting another lady or engaged to be married. It might seem scandalous, but most of the town knew that I was not the sort of person to "steal" men who were already spoken for, so there was nothing to worry about.

Finally, the night was over. I watched Mama and Papa say goodnight to their friends, so I decided to have a private conversation with Haleigh. She gave me an encouraging smile before kissing my cheeks in farewell, Jerry giving me a sly wink as he took my hand and shook it. Just as I was about to join my parents, Haleigh leaned forward to whisper into my ear.

"I'll think of something tonight, then send over an invitation for you to spend the day with me tomorrow, alright?" she asked as she gently squeezed my arm, her green eyes full of sympathy and kindness.

The look she gave me was comforting and exactly what I needed at that point. I nodded to her before going up to my father's side, letting him lead me and Mama to the carriage and handing us both in. The door quickly shut and I soon found myself in deep thought over what could possibly be done to help me and Erik with our elopement. I had no idea how such a thing could be planned, as I had no example to live by. Packing up all that I valued would be hard, as someone was bound to notice that things were being bundled up and tucked away. I also knew that Mother liked to sneak into my room to "borrow" hairpins, handkerchiefs, perfume, ribbons, and other small things, though why she needed _my_ things when she had her own puzzled me to no end. However, since that was one of her habits, she would likely notice if anything were out of place when she entered my room to take something back with her to her own vanity.

Sighing, I decided to let Haleigh work out the details, as she was far cleverer than I was. Instead, I closed my eyes to rest during the ride home.

* * *

Pacing through the rooms in her home was getting Haleigh Winters nowhere, fast. Funny, that saying never really made sense to her, and was quite amusing, when she thought about it. Haleigh quickly gave herself a mental slap, effectively stopping her train of thought. Now was _not_ the time to become distracted, even at this time of night. Pushing all other thoughts away, Haleigh went back to pacing the upstairs hallway of her Southern plantation. 

It was after midnight, which meant that the children were asleep in their little cribs. She could also hear Jerry snoring away in their master bedroom, the occasional snort escaping his lips as well. However, her husband's snores were not the reason that she was up at so late an hour; she was used to the noise, and it didn't bother her as it would most women. No, tonight Haleigh Winters' mind was occupied with how to make one of her closest friends as happily married as she was.

For years, Haleigh had watched Clara be passed over by man after man, everyone turning away from the incredibly shy girl who thought herself unattractive. Haleigh knew that Clara was quite pretty, and had a good, kind heart, as well as the Southern charm that most girls in town seemed to be born with. However, the male half of the population seemed oblivious to it. Haleigh believed it to be that most people compared Clara to her mother, Mrs. Savoy, and didn't think Clara as even remotely pretty.

Camilla Savoy was quite the beauty still, even after all these years and having two children. Tiny and petite, Camilla seemed to radiate power, class, and humor wherever she went, putting her daughter into the shadows. It was likely because of her mother's dominating presence that caused Clara to shrink and fade in any situation, especially when she was alone with a man and had to make conversation. So, being the meek person that she was, Clara allowed the other eligible girls of the town to have the men that she found attractive or was attracted to. The poor, poor girl…

Giving one last sigh, Haleigh turned and headed back towards her room, intending to get at least _some_ sleep before inviting Clara over in the morning.

* * *

After arriving home and slipping out of my dress, I practically flew into my nightgown and collapsed into bed, praying for dreams about Erik. My wish was granted, and I dreamed that the two of us were married and living in a lovely cottage by the sea, with a set of rose vines climbing up either side of the doorframe. It was such a charming and delightful dream that I did not want it to end. 

When I awoke the next day, I put on a white dress and was silent during breakfast with my parents. Philip was still sick in bed, and I did not want to speak to Mother or Father, so I just ate my bacon, toast with jelly, and drank my milk without saying a word. I only replied when spoken to, which, to my relief, was not very often. Imagine my joy when the meal was over and a note from Haleigh arrived! I quickly tore open the envelope, read it, and told Penny to let my parents know where I was going, saying that I would be at my friends' home for the entire day.

Putting on a hat, I was glad that neither Mama nor Papa minded my being gone all day. After all, Haleigh was a mother, and all my parents would think was that I was helping my friend take care of her three babies, the eldest not even a full year old yet! It was probably what my clever, red-headed friend was counting on, which made her house the perfect place to hatch a plan for my elopement.

I bid good day to my parents and climbed into the coach, ready for whatever Haleigh had planned.

* * *

"Who's a big girl?" I said, tickling Lena as she lay in her bassinette. "Look at those cheeks!" 

I was currently seated on a couch in the tea parlor in the Winters' house, enjoying some quality time with my friend and her three tiny ones. Lena looked up at me with the biggest doe-brown eyes, her brown hair forming a small curl in the middle of her forehead. She was the image of her father, I could tell. The boys, Wesley and Wyatt, though, were still too young to see who they resembled most. Presently, they still had the blue-grey eyes that all babies have until they were several months old, and their hair was a mixture of their father's brown and their mother's red locks.

Giving the baby girl a smile, I briefly turned my gaze to the twin boys asleep in another bassinette, the one big enough for the both of them. Honestly, how Haleigh managed to give birth twice in one year amazed me; if I had been in her place, I would be sure to try and _wait_ between pregnancies! And yet, being the remarkably strong woman and mother that she is, Haleigh took the whole thing in stride, not complaining as much as most women would have.

Beside me, my friend laughed. "Honestly, Clara, you're going to spoil her!"

I merely smiled and turned my attention back towards the little girl in front of me, who was busying gurgling and squealing at me as she clutched my finger. I had always wanted a family of my own, picturing myself with a little girl in my lap as I brushed her hair, or a boy who would love to show me how much he had learned from his father that day. With Erik, I had begun imagining that our children would have his green eyes and his love of music, as well as his wonderful voice.

The thought of Erik made me still in my playing with Lena. Would I ever get the chance to have children with Erik, or would I be doomed to live alone and unloved the rest of my days? It was a heartbreaking idea, but one that could very well come true if I did nothing about it. Speaking of which…

"Haleigh, have you thought of an idea yet for how Erik and I could elope?" I asked, twitching my finger around when Lena began to fuss about the lack of attention. The baby giggled again and began to chew gently on the tip of my knuckle.

My friend sighed as she pulled herself away from her twin sons. "No, dear, I'm afraid I haven't," she said, looked unusually disappointed in her abilities. "I stayed up all night, and can't think of a darn thing!" Haleigh shook her head, her curled red hair bouncing as she did so. "Honestly, I'm a horrible person for not coming up with a thing!"

I couldn't help but give a small laugh. "Well, you certainly didn't have to think of something right after the ball!" I said, smiling. "Besides, you had just spent the evening dancing and talking with friends; I'm surprised that you didn't collapse in bed the moment you got home!"

"No, that was Jerry," she said, winking at me as she sat next to me on the couch. "Still, I feel as though I've failed you in this."

"You haven't," I said, firmly. "Besides, there's really no rush in this as of yet. There's no one interested in me, and Father has refused to arrange or permit a marriage between me and a man older than forty years of age."

"Which Erik isn't," Haleigh lightly teased. "He doesn't look a day over thirty!"

"He isn't," I said, smiling. "Well, not much over thirty."

"A perfect man, then," she replied, patting my hand. "Now, what do you say to tea, cakes, and cucumber sandwiches? Jerry's going to town, so it's just the two of us and the children today."

"It sounds lovely," I said, truly meaning it.

* * *

Since the day the Savoy's had dismissed him from their home, Erik Rousseau had retreated back to his former habits of isolation indoors, his only friends his books and his music. He secluded himself within the room that served as both library and music room, only his servants entering to bring him food and dragging him upstairs to rest. Erik threw himself into reading, and once that had become too little as a form of amusement, he turned towards composing. 

And yet, when he read his books, he thought about whether Clara would enjoy that particular novel or not. When he tried his best to create a new opera, the music would not come. Thoughts of Clara and her loving gaze filled his mind whenever he tried to write, and it broke his concentration. Memories of the time they had spent together, particularly on the night he had proposed in the rose garden of her home, flooded his heart and soul with both love and pain. He had not felt this broken since that fateful night in Paris, a time that seemed so long ago.

"Sir, maybe you should go to town for a while," Marcus' voice said, cutting through the haze that had formed around Erik's mind.

Sitting up abruptly, the musician's fingers slammed down on the piano's ivory keys, releasing a chaotic melody that jarred the senses. Muttering curses, Erik stood up, slamming the cover of the instrument into place before stalking over to the window and looking out.

"And what would a day in town provide me?" he snapped, pressing clenched fists upon the windowsill. "Everything reminds me of Clara! No place is safe for me to go without me thinking about her!" From behind him, he could hear Marcus sigh.

"I know it's gotta be rough without Miss Clara, but staying inside all the time isn't good for you," the elderly butler replied, his voice soft. "You need to go outside to take your mind off of things, if only for a little bit. She wouldn't want you to waste away here in this darkness." As the older man left, shutting the large wooden door behind him, Erik reflected upon those words.

His entire life had been spent fleeing into the shadows when things went wrong or heartache struck. He had fled into the darkness of despair after his mother had sold him to the gypsies for a few copper coins. The opera house had been his sanctuary of darkness, music, and art after Madame Giry had freed him from his cage, and that tiny room he had hidden in after the disaster of Don Juan was where he had constructed a new life for himself as he awaited passage to the Americas. Darkness was all he had ever known except for after he had met Christine, and then…

"Oh, Clara," he whispered, closing his eyes and losing himself in memories.

Clara, his light and love, the one person that made him feel whole and normal in a world that had previously shunned him. She had seen his face, had touched him, cared for him in sickness and in health, and had never once run from him in terror. In every way, he thought of her as his wife; all that stood between them were her petty, stupid parents, a ceremony before a priest or judge, and a signed piece of paper.

"Soon, my love," Erik whispered into the glass of the window. "Soon we will be together, and nothing will stand in our path towards happiness."

For now, that vow was all he could give her. And for now, it would have to be enough.

* * *

AN: Okay, this was a lot shorter than previous chapters, but I kind of ran out of steam at this point. I promise that it will get better after this, I just got a little sidetracked by the release of Pirates of the Caribbean 2. I will post a new, longer chapter soon, I promise! Please review to help inspire me! 


	13. Let the Games Begin

Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: Sorry to be late with the update, but I just started a **_Pirates of the Caribbean_** fic and it seems to not want our dear Erik to get his share of attention. Anyway, enjoy the chapter & _review_!

**Chapter 13: Let the Games Begin:**

Several days passed, and _still_ Haleigh had no idea how to plan my elopement with Erik. I know that she tried her best, due to the dark circles forming under her eyes from staying up late, but I was growing terribly impatient. On the days where we met at her home, the two of us would put our heads together and go through every romantic story in her library, trying to see how elopements had been planned out by others. Some were rejected quickly, mostly those that involved faking my own death while I ran away with my fiancée. I couldn't bear the thought of breaking Mother and Father's heart that way, not to mention that Philip would be crushed at losing his older sister. Haleigh rather liked the idea of my claiming to visit her for a week when in fact I was running off with Erik, but I was against that idea. I knew that, very soon after it was discovered that I was missing, Haleigh would be the one in trouble with my family, and would likely be cast out of society for helping me do something so scandalous.

A week of searching through books yielded nothing, and the only thing that kept me sane was the fact that I could send messages to Erik though Haleigh and Jerry's servants. They were not long notes, but they were filled with words of love. I nearly wept every time one of the servants brought a reply, a small envelope with a piece of white paper inside stating how much Erik still loved me and that he awaited the day he could make me his wife. Once, he sent me a palm-sized drawing of himself, mask and all, which I could keep in my purse for me to stare at whenever I wished. He said that he had made many drawings of me, but "none could do justice in capturing the form of an angel." That particular message had made me cry, and I still kept it close to my heart.

At first, I thought that the numerous messages being sent to Erik might look suspicious. However, from what I could understand from the messenger servants (who heard about _everything_ that was going on in a house from the chatter of other servants), many of the town gossips thought that it was Jerry attempting to become better friends with Erik. Apparently, most people felt that Jerry hadn't made enough of an effort to become acquainted with Mr. Erik Rousseau, and thought it was right that he attempt to do so now, since Erik was no longer occupied with courting me.

As a result, no one made the connection between my friendship with the Winters' and the now-constant stream of letters flowing to and from Erik's house. This was all the better for everyone involved in the little rebellion against my parents as we would be able to do many things without raising eyebrows. Thankfully, my parents did not notice anything other than gossip, and were all too ready to believe anything that could be explained away by said-gossipers.

"For a pair of relatively intelligent folks, your Mama and Papa aren't really very bright when it comes to figuring out what's right under their noses," said Haleigh as she handed me a small plate of lemon cookies.

I laughed and shook my head, accepting the plate while trying to keep it out of the reach of the baby girl sitting in my lap. Presently, I was visiting my friend for the sake of a casual tea and afternoon with her darling children. Today, I was happy to eat cookies with Lena snuggled in my lap. There would be no researching book plots today, and no throwing around ridiculous ideas on how to smuggle me out of my home while my parents weren't looking just so I could see Erik.

'_Though I wouldn't mind actually seeing Erik instead of merely receiving a small note_,' I thought wistfully as I put the plate down on a table near my elbow. '_I haven't seen him since that night at the ball_! _What if he's forgotten what I look like_? _What if he's lost interest in me_?'

"Clara, I can almost read your thoughts again," Haleigh teased, snapping me out of my thoughts. "What's got your mind in knots today?"

I could feel myself turning red as I looked up at her, putting a cookie to my lips to hide my embarrassment. My red-headed friend only said that whenever she knew I was thinking about Erik, or something related to Erik.

"Well, I was just thinking about how much I would like to see him again," I said, sighing as I handed a fussing Lena the rest of my cookie to keep her quiet.

I couldn't help but smile as she instantly began teething on the treat, a smile on her face as she babbled around a mouth full of cookie crumbs. I swear that this baby grew cuter every time I saw her, and I couldn't help but think wistfully of the children Erik and I might have one day. Shaking my head to get the thought of my love out of my head, I turned my attention back to Haleigh, who was chewing her lip in thought.

"If there was a way I could get the two of you together sooner than later, I would make it happen," she said, releasing her lower lip. "Unfortunately, I can't simply invite Erik over here because everyone in town knows that you're here all the time; your parents would never allow you here again if they heard that Erik had visited."

What else could I do but nod in understanding? It really _would_ look suspicious if Erik were suddenly invited over when the town knew that my parents had forbidden our courtship; they might be willing to accept it if only Jerry were trying to become acquainted with Erik, but a sudden visit would be too much, especially since Erik and Jerry had only met once in the past.

"Well, it looks like I'm going to have to have Jerry get further involved in this than he wants to be," Haleigh said, grinning like a cat who's just eaten both the goldfish _and_ the canary.

"Oh, dear," I said, looking at her. I swear that I could feel my eyebrows lift off my head. "What scheme are you hatching now in that head of yours?"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," she replied as she took up her cup of tea. "I've got the whole thing all straightened out in my mind, and if I told you, you'd only mess it up. Just trust me on this."

That could not be a good sign, but all I could do was sigh and nod. As I had so frequently learned in the past, meddling in Haleigh's plans would only upset both her and her (usually) perfect plots. Instead, I picked up my tea cup and took a sip before offering some to Lena.

* * *

Jerald Winters was not happy about what his wife had proposed. In truth, he thought that his dear, clever wife could handle the entire elopement plotting all by herself without him becoming involved in any sort of way. Imagine his surprise when Haleigh came up to him after Clara had left, asking him to go and start a friendship with Erik Rousseau! 

"Haleigh…"

"Don't you argue with me!" his fiery little wife said, glaring at him with blazing green eyes. "It all part of helping Clara! Once you're friends with Erik, it won't look that unusual as messages between our houses become more frequent. Then, after you two have known each other for a few weeks, Erik can approach us at parties where Clara will be with us, and where she and Erik can see each other without rousing suspicion!"

Reluctantly, Jerry had to admit that it would probably be a good idea if he were on good terms with his wife's friend's fiancée. After all, the Frenchman had to be a good person if he had managed to win over such a delightful girl like Clara, and he hated to see his friend so unhappy because of the foolish acts of her parents. If he was any kind of friend to Clara, he would do this for her and the man she loved.

So, the day after his wife had given him strict instructions on what to do, Jerry mounted his horse and headed straight for the mansion of Mr. Erik Rousseau. The ride was a fairly long, but pleasant one, and Jerry was in a good mood when he arrived at the house. An elderly butler let him in with a look of surprise on his face, almost as though he hadn't been expecting a visitor.

In all likelihood, he probably hadn't. This, in turn, caused Jerry to wonder if his wife had even sent a notice ahead of time to warn that he was coming! Judging from the rushing about of the servants to make the house more suitable for callers, they hadn't known that Jerry Winters was coming to visit their master, which likely meant that Mr. Rousseau wasn't expecting him, either!

'_Haleigh_, _you and I are going to have a **long** talk when I get home_,' Jerry thought to himself and to his wife, who was probably laughing at him at that very moment.

Finally, after waiting for several moments, the butler escorted him to a drawing room and asked to take a seat while he fetched Mr. Rousseau. Jerry nodded and looked around. The heavy curtains were drawn, closing off the hot Southern sunlight and keeping the room cool in the summer. A few lamps were lit and giving off a warm, golden glow that flickered off the dark mahogany wood walls where there was also an unlit fireplace carved into the wall farthest from the doorway. There was a desk with three leather chairs, two before it and one behind it, as well as a grand piano and several small tables and chairs scattered about the room. All together, the room was elegant and quite comfortable to be in no matter what time of year it was.

Suddenly, the door behind him opened, and in came a rather flustered Erik Rousseau still combing his fingers through his hair. Jerry bit back a grin and a chuckle as Erik cleared his throat.

"Welcome to my home, Monsieur Winters," the masked man greeted him, bowing slightly.

Jerry bowed back. "I apologize, Mr. Rousseau," he said, an apologetic smile on his lips. "I truly thought my wife had sent a message on ahead of me, and would not have come otherwise."

"Please, as the husband to one of Clara's friends, and since you are one of her friends as well, call me Erik."

"Then feel free to call me Jerry."

The two gentlemen shook hands and exchanged tentative smiles before Erik sent his butler, Marcus, off to fetch something for them to eat and drink. The two men then took a seat in a pair of fine black leather chairs as they waited for Marcus' return. Only when the tray of small sandwiches and the pitcher of lemonade were served, and the room clear of servant eavesdroppers, did they feel free to speak.

"Forgive me, but I'm afraid I have been put off of alcohol," Erik said with a wince. "I'm afraid I overly indulged after the "incident" with Clara's parents and I refuse to take part in the stuff here in my home."

Jerry chuckled. "That's perfectly alright," he replied, taking a sip of lemonade as he reached for a sandwich. "We no longer keep alcohol in our house, either. Well, except for cleaning wounds, of course." He saw the puzzlement in Erik's eyes. "We have three babies in the house, one of which is just starting to walk and getting into everything. Our eldest is just over 10 months and we have a pair of twin boys born just a few weeks ago."

"Mon Dieu, _three_ babies?" Erik said, surprised. "Your wife must either love children or be mad."

"Well, it certainly wasn't planned on by either of us," Jerry said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "But that's not why I'm here."

A dark eyebrow rose, and though he couldn't see it through the white mask, Jerry was sure the other one had done the same. Funny how he hadn't really noticed the mask until just then…

"Then why are you here, Monsieur?"

"I'm here on behalf of my wife and Clara." Jerry watched with satisfaction as Erik sat straight up in his chair.

"Clara?" he whispered, gray-green eyes glazing over slightly.

The name sounded so soft and filled with emotion that Jerry knew the man before him was in love. Without delay, Jerry began to explain Haleigh's plan to form a friendship between him and Erik so that it wouldn't look suspicious if they were to all meet during some sort of social gathering. That way, the two lovers could see one another without Mr. and Mrs. Savoy suspecting that it was all a plot to help Clara meet with her secret fiancée; Haleigh and Jerry could merely claim that it was all due to Jerry wanting to get to know Erik better and to introduce the masked man to more people in society.

Once he was finished explaining the whole thing, Jerry sat back and waited to see what this man's reaction was the plan.

* * *

For a moment, Erik was thoughtful, though one side of his mouth was pulled up into a smirk. "Yes, I think it is a good idea," he said, polishing off his lemonade and refilling it from the pitcher. "Your wife is a clever woman, Jerry. Please give her my congratulations on creating such an idea." 

Erik bit back a chuckle upon seeing his new friend preen. The man had every right to be proud of his young wife; the girl was smart, fiery, and had a good sense of humor, all qualities that Erik admired. However, he still preferred the soft gentleness that was his Clara. He sighed. Oh, how he missed her! Right now there was nothing he wanted more than to feel her in his arms as he kissed her soft lips, to feel her lush, dark hair as he combed his fingers through it. He missed the way her cheeks turned red after he complimented her, or the way she shyly smiled when he tucked her hand under his arm as he guided her through the gardens of the plantations…

"Erik?" called a voice.

Reluctantly, Erik pulled himself back to the present. "I'm sorry, I was somewhere else. What were you saying?"

Jerry merely smiled at him with understanding. "I was saying that, after I visit here a few more times, I'll be able to _conveniently_ run into you in town…maybe even while I'm escorting my wife and Miss Savoy on a shopping trip, say, next Thursday afternoon?"

Erik smiled for the first time in days.

* * *

"Haleigh, are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, looking at her over the book I was flipping through. "I mean, what if my parents are in town and we '_run into_' Erik? They'll surely suspect something!" 

"Clara, everyone knows that Jerry is quite possibly one of the friendliest men in town. They also know how rude and unusual it looked for him _not_ to try and be friends with the new, mysterious masked man who had just arrived in Rockford," my friend huffed at me. Suddenly, her attitude softened. "First, there was our wedding to plan when Erik first arrived here. The guests were arriving, there were children running everywhere, not to mention that Mother was drinking a tad too much in order to calm down…"

"And then the babies arrived," I put in, smiling as a dreamy look appeared on Haleigh's face.

"Yes, the babies…" She then turned her attention back to her mending, fixing another tear in Lena's clothes. "I swear that that girl of mine rips her dresses and bonnets on purpose!"

I couldn't hold back my laughter. "Yes, she is a curious one, isn't she?" I asked, grinning as our conversation topic gurgled from inside the crib she had been placed in, currently located in the darkest corner of the room to keep her cool.

"That's because she's just like her father," said two voices in syncopation.

Haleigh gasped as Jerry entered the room and swept her up into a dramatic kiss. I laughed as my friend delivered a chiding remark to her husband, even though he wasn't even attempting to listen to her. Finally, Jerry released her and Haleigh let out another huff as she straightened her dress.

"So, what did you find out?" she asked as she sat down once more, picking up the mending that had fallen upon Jerry's playful attack.

"Well, let's just say that we should all plan on doing a bit of shopping next Thursday afternoon," he said, grinning broadly as I gaped at him.

"Erik will be there?" I asked, wanting to be sure of it.

"Yes, he will, if he knows what's good for him!" Haleigh snapped, slapping at her husband's hand as it drifted towards her arm. "And you had better be here Thursday morning so we can fix you right up before going into town."

I laughed and nodded. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away!"

"Forget about wild horses, I'm more worried about your parents!" Haleigh said, rolling her eyes at me. "Just be sure to convince them to let you come, though I don't think it'll be that hard to do so."

I nodded before turning back to my book.

* * *

At dinner that night, the Savoy family was, to all appearance, content. Mr. and Mrs. Savoy had spent the past few weeks worried that their daughter would not get over their forbidding her relationship with Mr. Rousseau. However, at the ball she had conducted herself exactly as any girl would have, dancing with many young men that, although taken by other girls, were her friends and willing to help her through her heartache. This pleased her mother very much, but her father was uneasy. 

In the back of his mind, Mr. Savoy worried that Clara had put this aside too quickly. He knew that Mr. Rousseau had had every intention of marrying Clara, which meant that the two were in love. As a father, Richard Savoy felt that he _knew_ the children he had raised, and he had this deep instinct that told him when something was wrong. Though he would never admit it, Clara was his favorite child, and he thought that she had gotten over her feelings for Erik Rousseau far too quickly for his own liking. Knowing her like he did, Clara should have still been knee-deep in tears, her eyes red and swollen from weeping and her throat raw from screaming and wailing her grief. This whole thing with visiting Haleigh Winters was all to the good, of course, as nothing helped a person heal than to be around friends to cheer them up. However, Clara still should have shed a few tears more than she already had, and it was beginning to worry her father tremendously.

"Papa?" called his daughter's voice.

He snapped back to the present. "Yes, Clara-sweetie?" he said, taking a sip of his wine before digging into his roast beef.

"Haleigh Winters invited me to go riding with her next Thursday," his daughter said, looking up at him with wide brown eyes. "May I go? Please, Papa?"

If there was one thing he couldn't refuse, it was Clara's pleading. Richard gave his consent, and after dinner, joined his wife for a quiet evening as Philip took his sister on a walk of the grounds.

"I heard that Jerald Winters is becoming friends with Mr. Rousseau," Camilla said, looking unhappy as she took a seat on a couch.

Richard bit back a sigh. His wife tended to see conspiracies and suspicious things around every corner. "Really, darling, Jerry Winters is the type of man who makes friends with every new person who moves into town," he said while sipping his brandy. "I honestly can't think of a single man who's come into Rockford and not become friends with him! Besides, with all of the plans for his wedding and the births of his children happening as it has, the man finally has a chance to meet the man that people are still talking about!" Richard held up his hand to stop any protests from his wife. "As much as we don't like Mr. Rousseau, we can't stop Jerald from making friends with him, and to deny Clara her friendship with the charming Haleigh would only destroy her. It is merely the way Jerry works, that's all. Let it go."

Camilla sighed and nodded her head. Perhaps her husband had a point. Jerry Winters was a sweet man, and he had been a very kind and friendly boy, so it was to be expected that he would attempt to become friends with every living thing. Yes, it was coincidence, that's all. The past year or so _had_ been hectic on both Jerry and Haleigh, and with things finally calming down, it was only natural for them to try and get to know the mysterious Erik Rousseau. There was nothing to worry about at all.

* * *

Meanwhile, two lovers eagerly awaited their next meeting, each holding a drawing of the other as they stared into the starry night sky.

* * *

AN: The plot thickens! Now please review and let me know how I'm doing! Thanks! 


	14. Conspiracies

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing.

AN: Here is where we finally discover…well, I can't tell you because it would ruin the whole point of reading the chapter. Let's just say that it's a bit happier and sappier than previous ones. Enjoy!

**Chapter 14: Conspiracies:**

I was a nervous wreck in the days leading up to Thursday. I felt caged and impatient, every inch of me wanting to see the man I loved and not have to wait to do so. I desperately needed to look into those beautiful gray-green eyes as Erik held me in his arms, whispering things to me in French…there was nothing better than listening to Erik say romantic things to me in French! In the end, though, I knew that my strange behavior would be noticed, so I turned my energy to sewing little rips and tears in my dresses, or changing the ribbons on my hats. I even managed to organize the sparkling collection I had in my jewelry box, untangling necklaces and bracelets and storing them neatly in different sections. I even organized them by color, just so that I could always find what I was looking for!

However, once that was done and there was nothing left to amuse me in my room, I took Sunny out for some exercise. If there is one way to pass time in a quick manner, it is through horseback riding. Galloping through fields and riding my lovely golden horse through the cool streams and brooks near my home helped to calm my spirit and enjoy the beauty of the Earth.

Finally, it was Thursday, and Haleigh sent a note to me during breakfast, asking me over to her home so that we could 'chat' together for the day. My mother gave me permission to do so, and I quickly raced upstairs to change. Today I was in a typical white gown, only this one was had red embroidered designs several inches above the hem. The bold design then went straight up the front and center of the dress before parting near the hips and wrapping completely around my waist. The top of the dress sported red buttons, and was fully trimmed with red braid. It was my newest dress, and I wanted to see what Erik thought of it when I saw him.

Once my dress was done, Penny put my hair up. Most of it was secured in a bun at the back of my head, but the sides were painstakingly wrapped around a hot iron so that it bounced in thick sausage-curls. On top of my head was a dainty straw hat with a red ribbon wrapped around it, a wider and longer length of red ribbon sewn to the sides so that I could securely tie it just under the left side of my jaw. I was a rather charming picture, both Penny and Mama agreed on that.

Presently, I was in a carriage just entering the Winters' plantation. I could see Haleigh waiting for me on the steps, frantically waving as I approached. Not knowing whether or not to laugh at her antics, I bit my tongue until I had exited the coach and it had left to return home. Once it was out of sight, Haleigh practically dragged me into the house by the crook of my elbow, gripping so hard I nearly lost all feeling in my limb.

The next thing I knew was that I was sitting in the parlor with a cup of tea in my hands, my head still spinning. How I ended up seated on the couch with my friend seated across from me, nearly bouncing in her seat, I don't know, but it was obvious that something exciting had happened, otherwise Haleigh would be terribly grumpy at this time of day; my redheaded friend was typically one who enjoyed sleeping late, and ever since she had become a mother, that sort of luxury was no longer hers. She should have had a frown on her face as she poured and served tea, and yet, today, she looked ready to burst with some sort of good news.

Sighing, I put my tea cup down on a nearby table. "Alright, out with it," I said, exasperated. "What's happened to put you into such a fine mood at this time of day? Have you had too much coffee again?"

She shook her head. "No, much better!" she said, grinning broadly and clapping her hands in excitement. "I've found a way for you to elope!"

If the cup had still been in my hands, it would have fallen from numb fingers. She had found a way for Erik and I to elope? Could that possibly be? Would Erik and I finally be together? A sudden thrill went through me, and I could feel my numbed body begin to warm, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

"Tell me quickly!" I exclaimed, a full grin now on my face.

Of course, it was at that moment that Jerry walked into the room, and the broad grin on his face was almost equal to the one on his wife's. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said as he walked over to Haleigh's side. "I thought I should tell you that we're expected in town soon, and need to leave at once."

"But Haleigh was about to tell me how Erik and I could elope!" I protested.

"Well, you'll just have to wait until we get into town," Jerry declared, offering his hand to his wife. "The children are ready for a day out, so we should go now before they start getting fussy."

Throwing angry glances at my friends, I followed close behind them, accepting the task of pushing Lena's pram as Haleigh took the twins. This was going to be a very long walk to town…

* * *

"For the last time, Mr. Erik, you look _fine_!" However, the humor in Marcus' voice belied his words. 

"I don't want to look '_fine_,' Marcus, I want to look _perfect_!" Erik snapped, fiddling with his cravat.

For the past several days, Erik had been sure that he was going to go mad before he ever saw Clara again. He had done everything in his power to pass the time, and yet it had seemed to drag by so slowly that Erik felt like pulling his hair out. Once again, reading, composing, or even sleeping did nothing to make the days pass quicker, instead only serving to agitate him in his attempt to find something amusing to do.

If it weren't for Jerald Winters visiting during this period, Erik felt sure that he would have lost his mind. The well-dressed appearance of the young man eerily reminded Erik of the Viscompt de Chagny, only without the naïve, noble air that the other man bore. Where Raoul was arrogant and tended to over-react at things, Jerald (or Jerry, as he asked to be called) was easygoing and had a light sense of humor that Erik found himself liking immensely. Since Erik had known few (if any) men in his life, having young Mr. Winters in his house and telling jokes was a strange and new experience to the former Phantom, and yet he couldn't stop himself from liking the boy. Best of all was that Jerry was eager to tell tales of his wife and children, which Erik was all too happy to listen to. Each tale of the new things the babies were learning made Erik laugh and smile over afternoon lemonade with his new friend, and the Frenchman often found himself thinking of how _his_ future children would look and behave after he had managed to wed his lovely Clara.

However, after Jerry's visits had stopped two days ago so that they could prepare for their 'run-in' in town, Erik had resorted to going through his wardrobe in search of the perfect outfit for Thursday. Dozens of combinations were rejected, as Clara had already seen him in either one coat or another, and he was hard-pressed to find something new and unworn. Finally, Erik had decided on a black coat, the interior a deep red satin that showed on the folded-over lapels and in the slightly rolled up sleeves. A black velvet vest with the same coloring and a brilliantly white shirt completed the top half of the ensemble, and with the black pants, polished shoes, and gold cufflinks, Erik felt that he was almost ready to see his beloved.

'_If only I could bring a gift for her_,' he thought wistfully. '_But if I did, it would look as though I knew I was going to see her, and that would look suspicious_.' The joy of seeing her would have to be enough…for now…

* * *

By the time we had reached the center of town, I was ready to scream my frustration to the world. Lena has slept the entire way here, so I was unable to entertain myself with cooing things to her. Haleigh and Jerry were busy with the twins, so conversation was out of the question; in the end, I had to content myself with merely pushing Lena's pram and walking the short distance from the plantation to town. 

I was disappointed to learn that there wasn't a specific time or place that we would actually meet Erik. Jerry wanted it to look as natural as possible when we encountered one another, and so we would have to walk around town for a while until we actually met. It was extremely frustrating, but there was nothing I could do except hold my tongue and push Lena around, which she found very entertaining, once she woke up. Her coos and gurgles distracted me enough so that, when we finally _did_ see Erik, I really was very surprised. Startled, I looked up when I heard Jerry's voice.

"Why, Mr. Rousseau!" Jerry exclaimed. "How nice to see you!"

"Good day to you, Mr. and Mrs. Winters." The richness of Erik's voice snapped my attention away from Lena and up towards his face…his beautiful, masked face... "And to you, too, Mademoiselle."

My heart nearly stopped when he addressed me in French, and I was more than ready to faint into his arms. Instead, I barely held myself standing and smiled shyly at him; even now his attractiveness made me feel a bit insecure, though from the look in his eyes, Erik thought I was the most gorgeous woman in the world. Looking away, I took in how dark and mysterious his outfit was, and how it made Erik appear almost…seductive.

"You look enchanting today," he said, pulling my attention back towards his face. His green eyes bore into mine as I stared at him.

"Thank you," I whispered, unable to say anything else.

"Oh, I have a wonderful idea!" Haleigh exclaimed. "Why don't we go have tea at the hotel? I hear that they've got a new chef and I'm absolutely _dying_ to try the pastries that they've been making!"

Not saying anything, I merely followed behind Haleigh as she led the way with the twins. Erik and Jerry walked behind us, making small talk as we made our way to the hotel café. We were promptly seated in a cool, dimly-lit corner, and half a dozen waiters rushed back and forth to bring us tea and little pastries to nibble on as we chatted. Well, Haleigh and Jerry chatted…Erik and I merely stared at one another over our food and drinks.

* * *

Haleigh watched with satisfaction as the two lovers gazed into one another's eyes, not needing to say a single word to express their feelings. It reminded her of when Jerry had been courting her, how they would share sly glances at one another in public and held hands when no one was looking at them. It had been so wonderful to experience, and now her dearest friend was sharing in that which she had previously been deprived. Right now, though, they had more important things to discuss, and Haleigh desperately needed Clara's attention. 

"So, Clara," she said, giving her friend a gentle kick under the table. Clara instantly tore her eyes away from Erik to look at her. "Remember what we were discussing earlier at my house?"

The slight daze that her friend had been locked in vanished. "Oh, yes!" Clara replied, blushing.

"Well," Haleigh said, taking a sip of tea. "I think that it would be a good thing to go and visit your aunt in Michigan, don't you?" A strategically placed kick of the foot carried her point across. "It would be a good time to _get away_ from your parents for a month or two, don't you think so?"

"Oh!" Clara exclaimed again, catching the hint. "Oh, yes, my Aunt Mary, of course. She's been inviting me to come and see her daughters for _ages_, and I think it this summer would be a perfect time to do it." She, too, took a sip of her tea before setting the cup back on its saucer. "Perhaps I should propose the idea to my father tonight."

* * *

Oh, he could have hugged Haleigh for bringing up such a topic with him present! To think, they were talking about their elopement plans in public without anyone the wiser! Keeping that in mind, Erik tried to appear calm as he got involved in the conversation. 

"Do you think he will approve of you taking such a journey?" Erik asked, his green eyes focused intensely on his beloved.

Clara laughed. "Oh, my Aunt Mary is the youngest of the family, and my father is especially fond of her," she replied, smiling at him in a manner that made his heart race. "There should be no problem, since her invitation is always open and she's been pestering me about it forever to go and see her."

Erik did his best to hide his smile. This was perfect! They could quickly make all of the plans they need to right now for when Clara would go to "visit her aunt." Once her parents were assured that she was out of Erik's reach, he himself would follow a little while later, claiming that he was going on a journey to the West or, quite possibly, to the northern part of the Americas. He and Clara would meet in the city her aunt lived in, and he would take her away to…

'_Take her away to **where**_?' he asked himself.

There were so many places he could take her, but which one would be safest for them to run away to? The West was far too dangerous for a delicate flower like Clara, as well as for a man such as Erik. He would be shunned, no doubt, and as for Clara, well, the open prairies were not meant for someone so used to the finer things in life. Perhaps they could settle in that large city out on the western coast, the once called San Francisco.

'_Either way, she must be given a good life_,' Erik thought to himself as he listened to Clara and Haleigh begin to plan Clara's visit to her aunt's. '_Though I loath to admit it, I agree with her father on the matter that Clara must be given the best things that money can buy_.'

And he would give them to her. Though she appeared to shun expensive silks and velvets, he would find the softest fabrics he could and delight in seeing her face light up when she opened the gift boxes. If she admired a comb or trinket in a store window, it would appear before her the moment they were alone together. Erik could hardly wait to feel the kisses and hugs of delight and thanks that Clara would no doubt give him. He would, of course, return her thank-you gestures, and perhaps have them lead to something much more delightful during the night…

"Well, that's all settled," Haleigh said, her tone filled with satisfaction.

Erik jerked back to the present. "What's settled?" he asked, extremely confused as to what they had been saying.

"Oh, really, Mr. Rousseau," the little redhead said, huffing at him in a playful manner. "Haven't you been paying attention?" The look on his face must have stated the obvious, for Haleigh sighed heavily. "Clara is planning to visit her aunt starting at the beginning of August, and will probably stay there until late September or early October, before the snow starts to fly. I hear the winter storms up there are _dreadful_!"

Clara giggled, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, as was expected of young ladies in public. Erik watched with envy as one hand, clad in a white lace glove, touched her lips. He missed kissing those lips…those lovely red lips that had smiled at him, reassuring him that everything was right in the world…

A cry from one of the prams drew the immediate attention of both Haleigh and Clara. Erik noticed that it was the eldest babe, the girl, who was crying, and since Clara was closest, she reached in and picked up the squalling infant. Cradling the baby in her arms, Clara began to whisper soft nothings to her, hoping to calm her down. He watched in amazement as the child quickly stopped crying and began to giggle up at her caretaker, all uneasiness forgotten.

"The little darling just wanted some attention, didn't you?" Clara cooed to the happy baby. "Yes, Lena just wanted someone to hold her, isn't that right, sweetness?"

The sight of Clara holding a child in her arms seemed to stir something in Erik, a feeling that he had never felt before in his entire existence. He suddenly felt the urge to walk over and wrap his arms around her, much as he saw Jerry doing at that moment with his wife, creating a soft, yet protective, atmosphere around the woman he loved and the child she held in her arms.

A moment later, Clara set baby Lena back into her pram and the moment was broken. However, the feeling in his chest refused to leave, and to Erik's surprise, he did not want it to.

* * *

From the corner of her eye, Haleigh had watched the entire thing, barely hiding a smirk as she sat and observed everything that Erik and Clara were doing, though it had mostly been Erik she had been watching. Clara was oblivious to the emotions crossing Erik's face, but Haleigh wasn't. She had seen the dreamy look Erik had on while she and Clara discussed the possible trip up North, even though she'd had to divide her attention between the two to do so. If there were one word to describe the emotion in Erik's green eyes, it would have been _determination_. 

Haleigh could guess several reasons why the Frenchman would look so resolved, but she couldn't know if she was right or not. Perhaps he was thinking about how he would do everything possible to get Clara away from the grip of her parents and claim her as his wife. Or he could be thinking about how he would make the elopement work, even if he had to move Heaven and Earth to do so.

However, from the last glimpse she had of Erik's face, she could definitely guess what he was thinking. If she was right, then there would be the sound of many children in Clara's future…

* * *

Tea was over far too quickly for my taste. Haleigh and I had made plans for me to follow in order to get me to my Aunt's, which would open up a large window of opportunity for Erik to find a way to come to me before we eloped. I did not know where we would go after we left Michigan, but it would most certainly have to be far away, as I knew Papa would do his best to find me and bring me home. 

'_No doubt we would likely have to move to another country_,' I thought to myself as we stood from the table and headed towards the doors. '_Father isn't rich enough to search the entire globe for me. Although_…' I began to chew my lower lip in thought. '_Although, Papa would probably stop looking for me after I wrote a message home, telling him how I was doing_.'

After I wrote home, though, I was sure that Erik and I would be free to roam the world and see it as I had always dreamed of. I wanted to visit so many places and see faces that were different from those here in the South. And I was sure that the foods overseas were unique as well! Erik had told me that they ate snails in France, and even though it sounded disgusting, I found it an experience I was willing to dare, should I ever get the chance.

"I hope that you have a pleasant evening, Mademoiselle."

Once again, Erik's voice brought me back from my thoughts, and his taking my right hand nearly made my heart stop. My gaze followed Erik's movements as he brought my hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it, making my skin feel as though it were on fire. I inhaled sharply, watching as his lips pulled up into the seductive grin I was always so eager to see. His gloved fingers stroked mine before releasing them, a slight feeling of regret showing in his eyes as I was sure it was in my own. Swallowing, I put on my best fake smile in order to appear happy to those walking past us.

"And you as well, Mr. Rousseau," I said, curtsying slightly as Erik bowed back to me.

"Come, Clara, it's time to go," Jerry said, tugging on my arm.

I could hear little Lena fussing in her baby pram, signaling that she was more than ready for her afternoon nap. Sighing, I gave Erik a true small smile as I turned to follow Haleigh and Jerry back to their plantation. However, I heard Erik's voice right by my ear.

"**_I love you, my sweet_**."

Turning my head sharply around, I saw that he was at least ten feet away from me. Was I going mad to have heard his voice in my ear so soon after leaving him? Papa always said that mad people heard voices when they weren't supposed to…

But when I took a closer look at him, I noticed that his throat was moving slightly as he subtly waved for me to leave.

"**_Ventriloquism, my dear_**," his voice commented into my ear. "**_Very useful, is it not_**?" I bit my lip, trying hard not to giggle in public, especially when there was supposedly nothing for me to laugh at.

"**_Do not worry, mon cherie. I am beginning to think that that fiery little friend of yours might just help us succeed in our plans_**. **_Go home and rest; I will send a note to her home in a few days, asking if I will be able to visit during a time when you are there_**. **_Now off you go, beloved, and pleasant dreams._**"

It was one order I was eager to obey. Later that night, I received one of the best night's sleep I'd had in a long time.

* * *

AN: Another chapter done. This was hard, given that I'm also working on a Pirates of the Caribbean story, so if updates are slow, that would be why. Please show your support and review! Thanks! 


	15. Success and Failures

Disclaimer: Erik is still not mine, much to my dismay. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: I thought that I'd mention that I'm going on vacation soon, so I won't be able to update for at least a couple weeks. I promise to post a new chapter as soon as I get back…or, at least, try to. Until then, please don't hate me, and enjoy this chapter until I return. Thanks, and review!

**Chapter 15: Success and Failures:**

Once again, I was nervously pacing the length of my room, trying to think out what Haleigh had come up with concerning the elopement plot. It had all seemed so simple…all I needed to do was sit down at dinner and propose that Mama and Papa allow me to visit my Aunt Mary in the North without either one of them or Philip accompanying me. They would approve, and I would be allowed to go. Then Erik would follow me there (secretly, of course) and then we would run away

'_But what if Papa says no_?' I thought to myself as I set myself down before my vanity mirror. '_If he's never really liked the idea of me traveling alone in town, he'll never allow me to travel to visit my aunt by train without some sort of escort_!'

That was my greatest fear: that Papa would force me to drag a dozen servants with me just so I was 'looked after,' like a proper, unmarried young lady should be. I have to admit that there were always men traveling on the train, and that one might try something inappropriate with me if it were discovered that I was traveling alone.

'_If both Mama and Papa raise a fuss, I can always barter them down to my taking one servant_,' I thought as I bit my lip. '_Even one female servant would do, so long as I wasn't traveling alone_.' I sighed as I heard the bell ring for dinner. '_Well, let's hope that this works as well as Haleigh says it will_.'

Smoothing down the front of my gown, I stood up and headed for the doorway to go down to dinner.

* * *

Much to Richard Savoy's joy, dinner had been a wondrous affair that night. The beef he had ordered from town had not only been tender, but perfectly juicy as well, and there was nothing he liked more than a good cut of beef with the right kind of wine. Camilla had also been pleased, as it had been her idea to order the food in the first place. This particular dinner was due to a friend of his wife's, namely that of a lady from out West; she had sent a bottle of red wine for Camilla to enjoy, and Camilla, in turn, had wanted a large slab of beef to go with the expensive port. 

Sighing, Richard leaned back in his chair at the table and took another drink of wine. '_Nothing better than a fine wine to go with a fine supper_,' he thought, gazing about at his family as he waited for dessert to be served. '_A perfect evening, indeed_.'

* * *

I could tell that Mama and Papa were both in a fine mood this evening. Father was on his fourth glass of the wine that Mama's friend from California had sent, and Mama had been particularly deep in her cup as well. Hopefully they were tipsy enough to approve of my request, but sober enough to remember this conversation in the morning! Philip might try and put up a fight, if only to try and play the 'protective younger brother' concerning my traveling on the train. However, if I played my cards right, I would get exactly what I wanted. So, taking my chances, I cleared my throat to attract their attention. 

Papa tore his eyes away from his glass, which he put down (a bit unsteadily) on the table. Mama looked a bit startled, but then, she really hadn't been paying much attention to anything except her wineglass and her food during the entire meal.

"Yes, sweetie, what is it?" Papa asked, smiling broadly at me.

Oh, this was a good sign. If he was this happy, he was sure to agree with me on anything I asked for! Trying not to look outwardly pleased, I took a deep breath and fluttered my eyelashes at my father.

"Papa, do you remember how, a few months ago, I said that Aunt Mary's been asking me to come and visit her and her little girls up North?" I asked, trying to sound innocent in my intentions. Papa nodded, but said nothing, so I pressed onwards. "Well, I was hoping that I could do just that: go up North on the train to go and see Aunt Mary and her pretty little blonde darlings."

I truly did love the little girls, Kari and Andrea, but had had the ill luck of having seen them only a few times. First, it had been just after they were born, and then for a handful of visits afterwards. However, I remembered that they took after their handsome, blonde father, since Aunt Mary sported curly, light brown hair; they also had gorgeous blue-gray eyes from their mother's side, and their mother's love of musical instruments. They were very bright, and even though this plot was to run away with Erik, I really did have every intention of seeing the girls before I ran away.

Papa's face turned serious, though I could tell he was still slightly drunk. "Is that wise, sweetheart?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "I mean, a lovely young lady like yourself taking the train all that way, alone…it's not a good idea…" He held up his hand. "I'll think about it, how's that? Give me a little while, and I'll consider it."

It was the best I could hope for. "Yes, Papa," I said, looking down at my plate in disappointment.

It might not have been a 'no,' but it hadn't been a 'yes,' either. I would have to bide my time and give my father another, much gentler prod with the idea tomorrow night at dinner, which made me quite nervous. The situation had become much more delicate, and I knew that if I did not handle it correctly, Haleigh's plan would crumble to dust right before my eyes. Everything depended on me doing the right thing at the right time, and I wasn't sure that I would be able to do it. Still, for Erik's sake, as well as my own, I would have to do my best.

I gave my father a smile as I took up my wine glass and took a sip.

* * *

Erik bit back a curse as he read the note in his hand, crumbling it up and throwing it across the room in a fit of anger. A note had arrived just that morning from the Winters' residence, telling him that the proposal of Clara going to visit her aunt hadn't immediately been granted, much to the disappointment of all those involved in the elopement plot. However, Erik was not surprised, though the hope he had previously held in the plan was quickly fading. 

'_If Monsieur Savoy had been drunker, it would have worked_,' he thought, going to sit down in a chair before his fireplace. '_Then the plan would be falling into place_.'

Still, he had to have faith in Clara's ability to handle her parents, as well as her skill in twisting them into getting what she wanted and when she wanted it. In a letter previous to this one, Haleigh had explained that most girls could get anything they wanted from their fathers; it was only their mothers they had to work on, and if they knew how to ask right, a girl could get exactly what she wanted.

'_Or so we hope_,' Erik thought to himself. '_Everything depends on Clara getting on a train and leaving town, with me following a week or so later_.'

But what if it the plan didn't succeed? What if Clara's family forbid her traveling to her aunt's and forced her to stay here, in Rockford, until her father found another suitor for her to marry? There was no possible way that Erik could bear the thought of that happening; he had to do something.

'_All this started because of her parents_' _disapproval of me_,' Erik thought, an idea slowly coming to him. '_What if I could get them to approve of me before Haleigh's plan is too underway_?'

Nodding to himself, he stood up and rang for his butler.

* * *

"Mr. Rousseau to see you, Mr. Savoy," declared a voice from the doorway of the study. 

Surprised, Richard looked up from the documents in front of him, directing his attention at Jacob. There stood his butler, a confused look on his dark face as he waited for his master's orders. The problem was that his master was too surprised to say anything.

"Shall I show him in, sir?" Jacob asked hesitantly.

"Oh! Yes, Jacob, show him in." He didn't know why he said it, but there it was. Quickly tucking his documents away, Mr. Savoy stood up from his chair to 'greet his guest.'

The moment the Frenchman came in, Mr. Savoy felt immediate disapproval of the man. The European composer was dressed in was could only be described as his best suit of clothes. The ensemble of a black coat, black cravat, and gold vest embroidered with black designs was elegant, and of good taste. It also had to be expensive, as Richard knew it would be.

'_The man spends his money as though he had enough to spare_!' he thought, taking in the gold chain hanging from Mr. Rousseau's pocket, as well as the gold cufflinks and ivory-topped ebony walking stick. Out loud, he said, "What can I do for you, Mr. Rousseau?"

"Monsieur Savoy, I was hoping that I could speak to you on the matter of my feelings for you daughter," was the smooth reply.

'_I knew it_,' the older man fumed as he watched the other man stand before his desk. '_He's come to try and talk me into letting him marry my little Clara_!'

"I know that we have our disagreements on the future I could provide for her," Mr. Rousseau began. "But if I were to announce the amount of money I have stored away, would it ease your thoughts on the matter of marriage?"

Richard bit back a grunt of disbelief. There was no possible way he would let his daughter marry the man standing before him. Clara deserved a true Southern gentleman, someone who was handsome, charming, and who was familiar with the Southern ways of life. He had to admit that, although Erik Rousseau was quite charming (in a foreign sort of way), the Frenchman knew nothing of what was required of a man of the upper class that Clara had grown up with.

'_And that face_…'

Even though the left side was good-looking enough to leave half the young girls in town swaying, Richard truly did not want such a man in the family. Imagine the two of them standing at a party, dear, lovely Clara on one side and this disfigured man standing on the other! It would be an awkward sight at best, and mortifying at the worst, should someone actually find the sight amusing and begin spreading some sort of joke or gossip about them. If there was one thing that could tear a family apart, it was the publicly spread jokes and rumors about one particular member.

'_I **will not** see my family disgraced in such a way_,' Richard thought. '_It's not just about the money…it's about pride…good old Southern pride in one's family and friends_, _and a disfigured son-in-law will not do; not for me, and not for my daughter_.'

He held up a hand to silence anything Mr. Rousseau could say next.

* * *

Erik silently fumed in the back of his carriage as Marcus drove him home. He had come to the Savoy home, willing to compromise for Clara's sake, only to be insulted and verbally thrown out. Not only that, but he had practically been ordered to not return on the punishment of arrest for trespassing! 

'_Pride_,' he thought, a slight growl escaping the back of his throat. '_He said it was pride and honor, and that it would all be destroyed if I married his daughter, but I know it's all because of my face.'_

His damned face…no one could see past it, no one except for the woman he loved. Clara loved him enough to run away with him, leaving everyone and everything she ever knew to be his wife. It was for _her_ that Erik had tried to make peace between him and her family, and now that he had been rejected by the head of her household once more, there was only one thing left for them to do.

Sighing heavily, Erik turned his attention towards the window and the scenery he passed. '_It is the only way. Oh, Clara, if only I could spare you from the pain that leaving your family will give you_!' He barely restrained himself from punching a hole in the door of the carriage. '_But I did try my best to appeal to your father, and was refused once more_. _I'm sorry, my love_.'

Sighing, he realized that he needed to send an immediate message to Mrs. Haleigh Winters.

* * *

Haleigh bit back a sigh as she read the note in her hand, her eyes going to meet her husband's. "Well, I suppose that this was all for the best," she remarked, folding the note and handing it to Jerry. 

He quickly read it and let a groan escape his lips. "Erik, you fool!" Jerry folded the paper back up and handed it to his wife. "How can this possibly help us?"

His wife gave him a comforting and humored smile. "Let me explain," she said, reaching out and pouring some scotch for him from the silver tray at her elbow. "With Erik appearing to do the noble thing in attempting to win over the Savoy's, they're sure to try and send her away to her aunt, if only to keep her away from Erik. Then, when the plan is carried out, the Savoy's won't believe that Clara has run off with him when she actually does so. They will simply think that she's gone off to in a fit of rebellion, finally acting out on the hurt and sadness that she's felt about her forbidden relationship with Erik." She handed the drink to him with a broad grin on her face

"And since Erik will allegedly be going off in a _completely_ different direction, 'honorably' trying to leave Clara to lead the life her parents wish her to, they will not suspect him!" Jerry said, grinning as he took a sip of his drink. "Well done, darling."

"Well, thank you!" she said, looking smug. "You'd better go and tell Erik that he's unknowingly acted quite appropriately in this matter."

Her husband jerked slightly in his seat. "Why can't you just send a note?" he asked, obviously too comfortable in his chair to want to leave the house.

"Because it will look better if you go over there and maintain the illusion that you're still trying to 'make friends' with Mr. Rousseau," Haleigh stated with a roll of her eyes, as though it should have been obvious.

Jerry merely sighed.

* * *

Dinner at our home was unusually quiet as we ate our meal. Papa hadn't said a word, and from the look on his face, if anyone attempted to engage him in conversation, all that we would get would be a line of profanity or a dark glare. Mama looked unhappy as well, though not as much as Papa, but she kept her silence. Philip and I trade looks over the table, communicating with one another through smiles, pointed glances at people or things around the room, or a few silent taps with our fingers on the tablecloth. 

'_Thank goodness we came up with "The Code,"_' I thought to myself as Philip sent a direct look towards one of the windows, subtly asking how my day had gone.

I replied with silently drumming four gloved fingertips on the table, saying that I had gone out riding. A flick of my pinky finger towards the windows said that I had been out all day, and a tiny twitch on the left side of my lips said that I'd had a wonderful time. I then asked him the same question about his day, to which he replied with a nonchalant look at his water glass. Apparently his day had been uneventful, and from the look he was giving me, it shouldn't have been. However, Philip didn't look grumpy, so it must have been a typical day for him.

Suddenly, Papa cleared his throat. "Clara, sweetheart?" he said, catching my attention.

Startled, I looked at him. "Yes, Papa?" was my confused reply.

"Clara, I've been thinking about that idea of yours to visit your aunt," he said, staring into his wine glass, which was the third one so far that evening. "I've decided that it might be a good idea to send you up there for a few months, until the beginning of winter. How does that sound?"

I was speechless. '_This is it_!' exclaimed a part of my mind. '_He's giving you what you want_! _Take it, take it, take it, you idiot_!'

With a mental jolt, I was returned to the present. "Oh, _thank you_, Papa!" I squealed, smiling broadly. "I can hardly wait!"

"Wonderful!" my father said, looking happy for the first time that night. "Will you be able to pack everything you need and be ready in a few days' time?"

Biting my lip in thought, I tried to reason if that would be enough time for me to warn Haleigh and have Erik plan his departure as well. Nodding for all to see, I turned my gaze to my father.

"I think that will be just fine," I said, smiling.

* * *

The next morning, Haleigh's squeal of joy must have been heard in town; it was that loud. "They're actually letting you go?" she asked, an excited look in her green eyes. 

"Under the condition that I take Penny along with me as an escort," I said. "I'm to stay there until just before winter starts, since northern winters are very harsh."

"Oh, that doesn't matter in the slightest," Haleigh said, pacing the room. I could tell that the wheels inside her head were turning as she the plot forward moved. "I know you might hate me for this, Clara, but it would probably be best for Erik to leave at least two or three weeks after you do."

"Two or three _weeks_?" I gasped from where I sat on her couch. "Why?"

"If he leaves too soon, it'll look strange, as though he were going to meet you there," she reasoned, green eyes meeting my brown ones. "If your parents suspect anything, they might just race up to meet you and bring you back home, and then where will you be?"

I sighed. "You're right," I said, looking down at my lap. "It's just…"

"You don't like being separated from him for so long," Haleigh replied, her voice soft as she took a seat beside me on the couch. "I know I felt the same way when Jerry and I were courting. Remember how he'd always have to leave on business for his family, and how miserable I was during the weeks and months he was gone?"

I couldn't hold back my laughter. "You would always be in a daze," I said, grinning. "I thought that you'd gotten into your father's tobacco bag again!"

She blushed, laughing along with me. "Well, I was in love," she said, gazing fondly at the two baby cribs in the far corners of the room. "And look where I am now."

My gaze followed hers. "Perhaps, someday, Erik and I will have children of our own." I knew that my voice had turned soft and wistful as I imagined how my future could be.

At that moment, Jerry came into the room, little Lena bouncing happily on his hip. "Good morning, ladies!" he said, handing his daughter off to her mother, who accepted her with a smile. "What have you two been talking about so early in the day?"

"Clara's parents have allowed her to go visit her aunt in the North!" Haleigh said, smiling as tickled the baby in her lap. Lena squealed in reply before going off into baby-babble.

"That's wonderful!" Jerry said, a grin on his face. "I'll head off to tell Erik about it right now. I can only imagine what his face will be like when I tell him! I need to head into town, anyway." He gave me a soft smile. "If there's a reply to that message, I'll bring it directly back."

* * *

Erik bit back a sigh as he looked out his window into the night. Earlier that day, Jerry had brought his message and left with a folded letter in his pocket, ready for Clara to read. It was all a matter of time now before the entire thing was to be acted on, and he was looking forward to it. If there was one thing the former Phantom of the Opera loved, it was a secret plot to get what he wanted. Although he didn't want anyone to be hurt this time, it was inevitable; for Clara to be happy and live the life she longed for, her family would have to pay the price for their hard-headedness. For too long had he waited to be loved, and now that it was within his grasp, he would not give it up…not without a fight.

* * *

AN: Well, there you go. Please read and review; I'd love to know what people think of this whole thing! Thanks! 


	16. Up North

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I own nothing.

AN: Sorry about the late update; I was on vacation and as we all know, writing so soon after getting home from a relaxing trip can be hard. Here's the next chapter, though, and I hope everyone enjoys it. Oh, and sorry about the poor breaks in the chapter; this website is acting wonky again! _Please review_!

**Chapter 16: Up North**:

I was practically bouncing with excitement as my train pulled up to the tiny station, a broad smile on my lips. Penny sat beside me and rolled her eyes as she began to check and see if we had forgotten anything. This was a good thing, considering the fact that I couldn't focus on anything except the train pulling to a stop.

"Honestly, Miss Clara, you've been on pins and needles ever since your papa let you come up here on this here train!" Penny exclaimed, grinning as she began moving my bags so that they could be properly taken care of by the train's staff.

"I can't help it!" I said, clapping my gloved hands together. "I've been looking forward to this for days! I can't believe I'm actually here!"

Finally, after two weeks of packing, planning, and traveling, I was here at the lovely little coastal town of Manistee, Michigan, and I couldn't be happier. Obviously, my joy came in two parts: one was my chance to see my darling aunt and cousins, and the other was that Haleigh's plan was going along exactly as we had thought. Sighing, I absently watched as Penny started ordering the staff around, making sure that they handled my things gently and correctly as my thoughts turned elsewhere.

Not long after Papa had given me permission to visit Aunt Mary and her girls, and just when my visit to Haleigh was over, Jerry had returned from Erik's home with a note in his pocket for me. However, instead of the tenderness and affection I had expected to find in the letter, I read something that nearly broke my heart and my faith in the love I had for my family.

Apparently, the only reason my father was allowing me to go up North was because Erik had visited the house earlier that same day, the day Papa had granted my request. Erik had come to my home in the hopes of changing my father's mind about him, and had instead been thrown out, forbidden to ever return under the threat of arrest for trespassing! I had then thought back to dinner that evening, realizing that I had unknowingly given both my mother and my father exactly what they dreamed of: a chance to get me away from Erik. That was why Papa had agreed to my coming up here; it was a way to get me to 'forget' about Erik and the fact that he loved me.

I had been angry, to say the least, but I knew that if I said anything to either Mama or Papa about it, they would ruin my one chance to be happy and to make my dreams come true. Instead, I had summoned Haleigh and told her that the plan would go through as we had talked about, and that I would have no regrets about leaving my parents behind. I would go up North, stay there and pretend to be happy for a few weeks, and wait for Erik to come and get me so we could run away together. Before I returned home from my visit, Haleigh and Jerry had both given me their support, as well as had me promise to write them as soon as I was safely away from my aunt and father's influences. I swore to do as they asked while giving each of their little ones a kiss goodbye.

The ride home from the Winters' mansion had been one filled with thought. I busily planned out which dresses I would take with me up North, meaning the ones I couldn't leave behind when I left with Erik. I would take my jewelry, of course, so that we could sell it in the event of an emergency, as well as a few trinkets that were sure to fetch a good price if sold. I could always buy a new hat, but my favorites would go with me, as would the gifts that Erik had presented to me; there was no possible way I was going to leave behind the love-tokens that I so cherished, as I was sure my father would tear my room apart in an attempt to find any clue as to where I had gone with the man I loved.

By the time I arrived home, my head was spinning with plans that no one else (save Haleigh, Jerry, and Erik) would know about, and the fact that Mama wanted to help me prepare for my voyage did not ease my mind at all. The moment I stepped through the doorway, my mother swept me upstairs to help fill my trunks with more clothes than I could possibly need on my visit. I was puzzled as to why Mama was in such a hurry, but Penny told me that night that Papa wanted me on the next train going North, which would be leaving in three days, so I would be arriving at my aunt's in exactly ten days.

Those three days passed by in a blur for me, so much so that all I can truly remember is the fact that I ate my regular meals and fell asleep in my bed at a late hour. Miraculously, all of my favorite gowns had made it into one trunk or another, as had my jewelry, thanks to my sneaking out of bed late so that I could pack the precious stones and metals in hidden corners. Before I left, I had made sure to send Haleigh a message about my leaving so soon, and that I hoped that she would 'take care' of things after I was gone. She had replied with a note of her own, a promise to 'attend to certain parties' and to be sure that things turned out alright. Assured that my friends would take care of Erik and our plan, I left Rockford with only a tiny bit of nervousness fluttering about in my stomach.

And now I was here, right where I needed to be. Erik was probably plotting how to come up here and make sure that his butler, Marcus, and his family members were all taken care of after he left. At present, I had no idea what excuse Erik would make for leaving his house; he could easily tell people he was leaving for a little vacation to another part of the country, or that he was quite literally moving away from Rockford because of the heartache he had experienced there from not being able to marry me. Either way, I had full confidence in my fiancée's ability to lie and make it look truthful.

Penny's voice broke my thoughts.

"Hurry _up_, Miss Clara! I'm sure your aunt's waiting for us on the platform!" my maid cried as she shook my shoulder. "Snap out of it, Miss, we've got to get off so they can load the passengers for the next leg of the journey!"

Taking a deep breath, I smiled at her before following her out of the cabin and into the crowded station.

-------

At first glance, no one would guess Aunt Mary was my father's little sister. While my father had red hair and blue eyes, Aunt Mary had brown hair that was between curly and wavy and had gray eyes. Both were tall, however, and my aunt was a lovely, cheerful person that did everything in her power to make her friends, relatives, and guests feel comfortable in her presence. I loved to visit her, and when I was young, my parents would bring Philip and I to visit her every year. Once we were older, though, and it was time to start showing our faces in society, our visits grew fewer and fewer until we went once every few years. In fact, a visit was long overdue, since I had last been here four years ago.

'_I wonder if the girls still remember me_,' I couldn't help thinking as I stepped onto the platform, placing myself beside the three trunks and one suitcase that I'd brought with me.

"Clara, Clara, Clara!" cried a young girl's voice.

Craning my neck, I saw a little blonde head race towards me, and before I knew it, there was a pretty little girl with blond locks attached to my waist. I couldn't hold back my laughter as Kari clung to me, her gray eyes gazing up at me with adoration; I had always been her favorite cousin for some reason.

"Well, hello to you, too," I said, putting a hand on her cheek. "My goodness, look at how you've grown! You're likely to be as big as I am before long!" My little cousin merely gave me a bright, excited smile.

"Gracious, Kari, you know better than to run off like that." I bit back a chuckle upon hearing my aunt's voice. "Besides, it's not very dignified for 10-year-old girls to behave that way in public!"

This time I did laugh. "Well, I think it's a good thing that she's getting it done while she still can," I joked, smiling as my Aunt Mary walked over, her 8-year-old daughter, Andrea, at her side.

"Now don't you dare start encouraging her, Clara," Aunt Mary gently chided me, even though she smiled as she did so. "Otherwise I'll end up with a wild child on my hands."

"Did you miss me?" Kari asked as she gazed up at me, her arms still around my waist.

"Of course I did!" I exclaimed, pretending to be shocked at the question. "Why, I even brought you and your sister a present because I missed you so much!"

Opening the satchel-like purse I had around my wrist, I pulled out two little fans that I had purchased at a shop during a long rest-stop, knowing how much little girls longed to act like grown ladies. I bought a blue fan for Kari and a pink fan for Andrea, since they were their favorite colors, and was rewarded for my efforts by little cries of delight from the girls, who immediately flicked them open and began using them. I laughed as they attempted to imitate the women around them.

"Well, thank goodness for that," Aunt Mary said, sighing in relief. "Now I get to take three pretty young ladies home, instead of one young woman and two little girls."

The next thing I knew, my things were being loaded onto a carriage and we were on our way to her house. It was a coastal town, set near Lake Michigan, so there was always a cool breeze, even on the hottest of summer days. My aunt's house was large and airy, and as it was so welcoming to anyone who stepped inside of it, it was one of my favorite places to visit. Truth be told, I would much rather spend the summer near water than in the South…it's always so dreadfully hot down there!

Upon our arrival, Penny and I were ordered to go upstairs and rest before supper, which I was only too glad to do. I was eager to nap on a bed that wasn't swaying back and forth, and to go through my trunks for something other than a traveling dress. Penny, however, refused to allow me anywhere _near_ my trunks, so I was forced to take a nap without laying a hand on my clothes. I woke just in time to dress and to join my aunt, uncle, and cousins for dinner. Uncle Geoffrey was thrilled to have me there, and welcomed me with his usual broad, friendly smile while the servants bustled about. I was shown to my spot, right across from Aunt Mary, and eagerly tucked into my roasted chicken breast and vegetables, although the frosted cake at the end was by far the best part.

Once the meal was over and Kari and Andrea were shown upstairs by their nursemaid, I was escorted to the parlor so I could talk with my aunt and uncle. Uncle Geoff took a seat on a black leather chair while Aunt Mary and I sat at a small table with a tea tray between us. I happily accepted a cup of mint tea, and the three of us made small-talk about what had happened since the last time I had visited. I was halfway through my second cup before a tremendous shock was thrown at me.

"Clara, dear, your father sent me a telegraph before you came," Aunt Mary said, gazing at me from over her tea cup and saucer. "I've decided to follow his advice and introduce you to the society here to let you meet the young women and men of the town."

I nearly choked on my tea. Papa had asked Aunt Mary to take me _socializing_ while I was up here? Dear Lord, he must want me in love or engaged to someone else so I would forget about Erik! It would work to Papa's advantage if I married someone from my aunt's neighborhood, as many of the men here came from extremely wealthy families. I can only imagine Mother's joy at seeing me married off to a rich Northerner!

Slowly, I swallowed the tea in my mouth and calmed myself down. I did not want to play along with this, but if I didn't, they would suspect something. If my aunt and uncle felt as though I were acting rebellious or strange, they would write to my father and I would instantly be sent home…or worse, I would be put under a constant guard with either my aunt or Penny keeping an eye on me. If that happened, I would not be able to run away with Erik, and all hopes of a happy future were lost.

I would have to pretend to be interested in finding another love, whether I liked it or not.

-------

"Jerry," Haleigh nearly screamed when she read Clara's first letter to her. Her husband instantly raced into the room, expecting some sort of disaster to have happened with the children.

"What, sweetheart, what is it?" he asked, looking around the room.

"It's Clara!" she said, staring at the note in her hand. "Clara's father is trying to get her married off to some Northerner! He actually asked his sister to find Clara a man while she was visiting so she would forget all about Erik!"

Jerry nearly collapsed into a chair, pure shock written all over his face. "He did what?" he said, rubbing a hand over his face. "I can't believe the man would do something like this to his own daughter, especially when she's so madly in love with a man already!"

His wife merely shook her head. "This really puts a kink in things, doesn't it?" Haleigh muttered, glaring at the note. "It means that we'll have to have Erik move quickly if he's going to get Clara out of there before she's forced into an arranged marriage or something equally terrible!"

"Right," Jerry said, getting up from his seat and heading for the door.

-------

In the days since Clara had left, Erik had managed to pass the time getting his affairs in order for when he fled town to be with her. His accounts had been shifted into another country, for he did not believe America to be a safe place if Mr. Savoy was after them. Marcus, his wife, Jill, and their daughter, Laura, had been given a good sum of money to go start a new life wherever they wished after he was gone. Although they didn't like the fact he was leaving them so soon after arriving in Rockford, they accepted the money they needed for their newfound lives. Erik had offered them the house, as they had lived there so long, but both Marcus and Jill wanted to live someplace new with their daughter, and they would be heading up North or West to live after Erik had gone.

To Erik's relief, none of his servants spoke a word about his leaving Rockford for good, as he had asked them to keep it a secret. He did not want it widely known that he was vanishing so soon after Clara had left, and since he hadn't appeared at any social events since the Savoy's had forbidden his relationship with Clara, it was doubtful that anyone would truly miss his absence until it was too late.

'_Which is all the good_,' he thought to himself as he composed a new piece of music, one that was inspired by his beloved fiancée. '_At least it will keep the Savoy's off of the scent until Clara is safe in my arms and we are far away from both her parents and her aunt_.'

Best of all was the way Erik had managed to purchase a train ticket for himself, going northwards. Five years ago, Marcus had become friends with a traveling salesman, a jolly, old, white fellow who passed through the town once or twice a season. After being introduced to the man a few days ago, Erik had hired him to go and purchase his train ticket to Michigan instead of doing the task himself. That way, if anyone asked around to see if a masked man had purchased a train ticket, the man in the ticket booth could honestly say he hadn't.

Smiling, Erik scribbled down another note on his sheet of paper. In less than a month, he would be in Michigan, wrapping his arms around Clara and staring into her wonderful brown eyes. He could hardly wait to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her for doing this for him!

"Mister Erik, Mr. Jerry Winters is here to see you," Marcus' voice called through the closed door of the music room. "He says it's urgent."

Erik's smile turned into a frown; he hated being disturbed when his muse was calling! "Tell him I'm busy," he declared, turning his attention back towards the sheet of music paper in front of him.

"But he says that it's bad news about Miss Clara!"

-------

Never in his life had Jerry Winters see a man run to answer a summons. Erik Rousseau nearly broke through the doors of his music room and parlor to get to his visitor, and if the situation hadn't been so serious, Jerry would have burst out laughing. When Erik finally managed to compose himself a little, he approached his guest, trying to appear cool and collected.

"Jerry, what brings you here?" the masked man asked, his hands clenching at his sides. "What's all this about bad news and Clara?"

"Erik, you're a good man and obviously a good friend, so I won't beat about the bush on the matter," Jerry said, sighing as he went to stand before the other man, looking up several inches into Erik's face. "The truth is…Mr. Savoy wrote to his sister, Clara's aunt, and asked her to find Clara a new beau while she's up North. Haleigh and I both think that this is an attempt to get her to forget about you and what you two had (or should I say, have) together. This is also a likely effort to get Clara to marry a rich Northern man so she can bring some sort of wealth to the family."

Jerry looked up and saw the blank stare on his friend's face. "Erik, are you alright?"

-------

Erik had gone cold the minute the words had left Jerry's lips. Clara's father was attempting to make her forget him? He had actually plotted behind his daughter's back and asked Clara's beloved aunt to play matchmaker, to try and force a relationship on her? Would her aunt actually do as Mr. Savoy asked her to? Knowing how much the woman cared about Clara, she most likely would, thinking that she was helping the situation and not hurting it.

Blinking his eyes, Erik tried to claw his way back into his body and to think rationally, even though the Phantom was stirring within him. Violence was not the answer to this problem, though he would not hesitate to use it if necessary. First, they had to find a way to see Haleigh's plan through, to try and get both him and Clara away from her hard-hearted, prideful, vain family, and into a new life. If anything interfered, then Erik would be forced to improvise and do whatever it took to get him and Clara safely away to their destination. The entire plot was already underway; they merely had to see it through to either the end or as far as it would take them, whichever came first.

Taking a deep breath, Erik managed to call a bit of feeling back into his body, though his blood was both boiling and ice cold with rage. "Should I move more swiftly with my plans?" he asked Jerry.

The young man shook his head, brown hair flopping into his brown eyes. "No, that would look suspicious," he said, clapping a hand on Erik's shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. "Besides, I highly doubt that Clara is going to forget all about you in a week or ten days. She loves you and is willing to run away and marry you against her parents' wishes, which totally goes against everything Haleigh and I have ever known about her." Jerry gave him a huge, warm, friendly grin. "She loves you and there is no possible way that she will forget you that easily."

Nodding, Erik smiled back. "_Merci_, my friend," he said, clapping a strong hand on Jerry's shoulder, which caused the other man to stager a bit. "You are right about Clara; she will not forget the one who loves her so quickly. I will go as planned, but I'm afraid that I will be whisking Clara away sooner than later."

Jerry laughed. "Of that, I have no doubt!" he said. "And I have a feeling that Clara will be able to handle things herself until you get there. She's quite capable, you know."

-------

'_If I have to spend another moment with this man, I swear I will go mad_!' I thought to myself, pasting on another false smile as the gentleman beside me began to talk more about himself and his business.

I had sent my message to Haleigh a week ago, and had only gotten a short note back saying '_patience is a virtue, and good things come to those who wait_.' However, by now, my patience was wearing thin, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than slap this man in the face and run upstairs to my room. However, Aunt Mary was watching me like a hawk, determined to have me paired with Mr. Charles Kirkland, no matter what the cost. Unfortunately, the cost was my sanity, and the price I had to pay was boredom at everything the man said.

Starting two days after I had arrived, Aunt Mary had dragged me out to every single card game, social gathering, dance, ball, or party that she received an invitation to. So far, I had been to at least one of each, and my head was beginning to hurt from all of the new names and faces I was seeing and meeting. Also, I had been forced to dance with several men who were interested in the 'new girl' in town, but mousy Charles Kirkland was the worst, primarily because he was the most persistent and dullest of the men who were fluttering around me.

The man was rich, no doubt, but his light brown hair was limp, his eyes a blue so pale they were almost clear, and he had the thinnest lips I had ever seen. And for some reason, he was focused on me. I had seen a few other girls interested in him, but Mr. Kirkland was, for some reason, determined to make me his wife (though I suppose it must have been my Southern accent that did it). I couldn't stand listening to him talk or looking at him for very long. His voice was soft and timid, not squeaky as I thought it would be, but his topics of conversation tended to leave me both sleepy and ready to run away screaming. However, a look from my aunt told me that I was forbidden to leave, even though we were at home and having guests over for tea and cards.

Instead, I let my thoughts drift to thoughts of Erik. I swear I could feel his strong arms around me and hear his voice in my ear, just like when we were walking together in the gardens back home. I needed him here to save me from this nightmare that my father and aunt were putting me through, and I knew that he couldn't possibly get here fast enough to take me away. Instead of crying as I wanted to, though, I bit back my tears and listened absently to Charles talk about his wheat shipping business.

-------

AN: Wow, poor Clara! Erik will be arriving soon, though, so don't worry! Please _review_!


	17. A Shadow in the Night

Disclaimer: Erik and the real town of Manistee are not mine. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: I know people are mad at me for having another guy enter the picture last chapter, but fear not! Erik reunites with Clara in this part, so don't worry about anything. And no, I'm not going to kill the suitor off in this story, though there _might_ be some threats from our beloved Phantom! Also, this entire chapter takes place on the same day, so try not to be confused as to the passing of time or whatever: it's all the same day and night. Enjoy, and please review!

**Chapter 17: A Shadow in the Night**:

"Clara, Clara, wake up!" cried a voice from outside my door. "Wake up, Clara!"

Managing to both yawn and groan at the same time, I hid my head under my pillow to drown out the sounds of my little cousins. Well, one cousin; Kari had taken it upon herself to show and tell me everything there was to know about her hometown, which was the cause of my early-morning wakeup call. I hadn't had a peaceful morning since my arrival two weeks ago, and it was beginning to drive me slightly insane. Much to my dismay, Aunt Mary refused to interfere, so I was forced to wake up and do whatever was planned out for me for the day.

"Come on, Clara!" Kari called through the door. "Mama says we need to eat breakfast before we go into town to shop!"

I sighed and pulled my head out from under my pillow. "I'm awake, Kari, I'm awake!"

Even though there was a great deal of space between me and the door, I could hear her cheering as footsteps approached my room. Apparently Penny had been sent up here to help me dress, so now I would _have_ to get up, willing or not. Rolling my eyes, I slid out of bed and went over to the clothes closet that held my dresses, both old and new. I couldn't hold back a chuckle as I searched through the numerous outfits I had acquired so far during my stay.

Two days after I'd arrived, my aunt had decided that my dresses, though lovely, needed to have more color and 'texture' than they already had. My personal tastes had leaned towards things that were simple, but elegant; Aunt Mary wanted me in something much bolder and with a wider variety of colors. Now I had outfits that held at least two or three different colored cloths creating it, and they made me feel slightly uncomfortable while I was wearing them. I loved my white dresses, as they kept off the Southern heat, but here on the shores of the Great Lakes, they were not necessary.

At that moment, Penny came in and rolled her eyes at the sight of my new wardrobe. She did not agree with my aunt's tastes in colors for me, especially not after Aunt Mary had tried to force me into having a seamstress fashion a repulsive blue dress that had a great deal of pale yellow in it. I looked _horrible_ in yellow of any shade and knew it, which was why it took me an hour to persuade my aunt that there was a good reason yellow was nonexistent in any of my clothes. She had agreed, but Penny had never forgiven her for that occasion, or for any of my other new dresses, as some of them were completely wrong for me. In the end, Penny and I agreed that, when it came to dressing someone other than her daughters, my aunt's taste in fashion was…somewhat lacking.

"Which of these circus tents will you be wearing today, Miss Clara?" Penny asked me in a quiet voice. The two of us privately called my new dresses 'circus tents,' as they closely resembled those colorful materials.

I laughed and pointed at a sea-green dress with white silk on the bodice and in a few underskirts. It was one of the few new dresses that I liked, since I had picked out the colors and materials myself. It was also light and airy, perfect for walking along the sunny streets. I also had a new parasol of matching white silk, and was looking forward to using it for the day. Biting my lip, I slid into my corset and let Penny pull the strings tight. Thankfully, she left me plenty of room to breathe, as I had no intention of trying to appear thinner than I actually was. Some women liked to have their corsets tightened as far as they could go, thus giving up the right to breathe; I, however, knew that if I attempted such an act, I would not look as I hoped to. Instead, I preferred the ability to fill my lungs with air than appear like an awkwardly-shaped woman trying to look like something she was not.

When the last string had been tied off, I slipped into my dress and let Penny braid my hair before pinning it up into a knot at the top of my head. Any stray hairs were pulled together and curled so that they framed my forehead and face, and a pair of lovely green ribbons were woven into place to keep my hair from coming loose. I was handed a fan and a small satchel to tuck my money into, and was gently pushed towards the door by a very pleased maid.

"You look lovely, Miss," Penny said, grinning at me. "It's likely that the elder Miss Pine will be wanting to copy you before you leave."

I laughed at the thought of little Kari trying to dress like me. Ever since I had arrived, Kari had been doing her best to imitate me in dress and manners, which her mother thought was a good thing. It wouldn't surprise me in the least of my dear little cousin raced to her bedroom and tore it apart to find a dress that matched mine. So far, the townsfolk thought it was adorable, and would often smile upon seeing me lead a small, blonde copy of myself around the shops.

Giving my maid a nod, I turned and headed towards the dining room for breakfast.

-------

After the breakfast dishes were cleared away, Erik found himself restlessly pacing about his cabin on the train. He sorely missed seeing Clara, and it had been well over three weeks since she had left Rockford for her aunt's home. So far, the plan was working; he had managed to take a train up through Virginia and into Maryland before transferring to another train heading west to Michigan.

'_Too many days on a train_,' he thought. '_Too many days spent in one spot, despite stopping in a few cities to refuel and changed trains_.'

Pacing, Erik realized that his impatience was due to his need to see his fiancé. He had left exactly two weeks after Clara had, biding his three servants farewell and wishing them luck in their new lives before leaping into his carriage and leaving Rockford forever. He was going to miss his servants, as they had become friends, but he made them promise to send him letters through Haleigh Winters, who had eagerly agreed to aid in all correspondence involving both Erik and Clara.

Suddenly, Erik found himself jerked off his feet by the train slowing down dramatically and coming to a stop. The sign above the platform outside his window read "Manistee," and he knew that he had arrived. Pulling on his cloak, Erik quickly glanced in a mirror to see if his everything was in place. Ever since his second visit to the Savoy mansion, he had spent hours developing a mask that matched his skin tone and fit to his face like a second skin. With just the right amount of makeup, Erik could pass himself off as any other man in town, making it so no one gave him a second glance.

Unfortunately, the illusion of normalcy did not last long. In his haste to create it, this new mask had been crafted of materials inferior to that of his white mask. Eventually, the combination of the makeup and mask would begin to itch, slowly driving him mad until he found a place to remove both and clean his face. For now, though, he appeared as a normal man should, and would keep that look until he was safely in his hotel room. It had worked thus far on the journey, which raised his hopes that he would be able to approach Clara with little difficulty until they made their flight from America.

A knock on the door signaled that one of the train's staff was here for his luggage. Opening the door, Erik stepped out of his little private cabin and allowed several young men to enter and remove his suitcases, of which there were four. He could not afford to take too much, as it would look suspicious, but Jerry had happily offered to keep the rest of Erik's belongings at his home until it was sent for after the elopement. Everything that could not be removed or were unwanted had been sold with the house, which had been purchased by a newlywed couple moving to the South from Maine. The sale of his home was actually financing the elopement plot for his stay in Manistee and their later escape.

After the bags were taken from the cabin and left on the platform, Erik straightened, stretching his back and enjoying the fresh air that came off of the lake nearby. The breeze coming off the water had a different scent from that of the ocean, as the lake was of fresh and not salt water, but it was still refreshing and cleaner than anything he had ever breathed in his life. If he did not have to run away from here with Clara, there was a chance that he would settle here and raise a family with her.

From behind him came a feminine giggle, causing Erik to turn around. A small group of young ladies, just in their late teenage years, stood there, eyeing him with admiration written all over their faces. He recognized those looks from the ones that the young women in Rockford had thrown at him, and so knew how to handle the situation. A brief, but polite, nod and a smile made the girls erupt into a collection of giggles, some of them fluttering their lashes at him as he waved down someone to help him with his bags.

-------

An hour after arriving in town, Erik located the small, but comfortable, hotel where he had reserved a room. Given that the town itself was small, he hadn't counted on there being a large hotel with an army of bellboys and maids. The Crystal Water Hotel wasn't large, but it wasn't small, either, and had a decent-sized staff that was happy to cater to Erik's needs. It was a three-level brick building, and took up nearly half of a block. The entrance consisted of a small lobby with a front desk, but was elegantly decorated with a wealth of furniture, dark blue wall-hangings, and mahogany wood panelling. Predictably, the largest and most expensive rooms were on the top floor, reserved for those who had the money to spend on them.

Through his reservation and his wealthy appearance, Erik managed to get the last available of the upstairs suites, and was glad of it; the breathtaking view of the water explained the price of the room, and the cool breeze flowing through the windows was marvelous. Turning towards his luggage, Erik smiled as he went to unpack. Normally, such a chore would have been left to the servant assigned to him by the hotel, but Erik had dismissed the young man so that he could remove his mask and wash away the itchy makeup. The servant had been happy to leave after Erik had given him a generous tip.

Once most of his clothing had been unpacked, Erik began pacing his room, unsure as to what to do next. Haleigh had said that she would write to both him and Clara after she was sure he had arrived in Clara's aunt's town; however, he did not want to wait too long to contact the woman he loved. Right now, it was taking all of his willpower not to run downstairs and ask for directions to the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Geoffrey Pine so he could go find Clara. No, he would have to wait for Haleigh to send both of her letters before he could contact his love. Sighing, Erik decided that a long, hot bath was a good idea, as the bathing facilities on the train had been tiny and practically nonexistent.

Humming, he picked up a towel and his white mask and headed for the bathroom.

-------

By late afternoon, I was more than ready to run to my room and scream into a pillow. My morning with my little cousins had gone smoothly enough, although they had dragged me around town to all of the little shops along the main street. We had purchased some candy for ourselves, as well as some ribbons for our hair and hats and dresses. Our final stop had been the local bookstore, which, though small, had a wide selection of books. By the time we were finished, the three of us were so excited to go home and read that the girls begged for me to read aloud to them as soon as we returned.

However, my aunt had other plans for me. She had truly taken my father's letter to heart, and was determined to find me a 'suitable man' before I left for home. My aunt might have even had the hopes of having me married before the season was over, just so she knew what to do when her own daughters grew up. Frankly, the whole idea sickened me, but since it was her house that I was living in (for the time being), I had no choice but to play along and do what she asked.

This was primarily why I was currently sitting in Aunt Mary's sunny parlor, sipping tea with six other young, available women of marriageable age. I was also bored out of my mind, as none of these girls seemed to have a thought in their head; even my friends in Rockford had more to talk about than just dresses, gossip, and possible husbands! I silently thanked the Lord for my friends back home, all of which had a mind of their own, as well as a bit of Southern spunk and strength. If Haleigh herself had been here, she _would_ have run out of the room, screaming for someone to save her.

Unfortunately, I was not gifted with my friend's streak of rebelliousness, so I forced my temper down and sipped my tea, trying to draw my attention from the whirlwind of gossip floating around my head. However, I kept my ears open, as I knew I would be required to answer any sort of question or comment directed at me. If I didn't behave as I was expected to, my aunt would be angry, and then she would write to my father, which was something I could not afford. Instead, I merely sat there and smiled whenever it was appropriate.

"Oh, Miss Savoy, you are _so_ fortunate to have Mr. Kirkland interested in you!" declared a young woman with black hair, her eyelashes fluttering over blue eyes.

"And isn't he the gentleman!" said another girl, this one with light brown hair and gray eyes. "He's always so attentive to you, always fetching little drinks and food for you. You are so lucky!"

I tried not to snort in disbelief as I put on a polite smile. "Yes, he is quite considerate, isn't he?" I asked, sipping my tea and wishing that they would all just leave me alone. I would much rather be up in my room, thinking about Erik than sitting here and talking about nothing!

"He's naturally considerate, but he pays more attention to your comforts than any others," declared my aunt, who entered the room and took a seat close to me. "You would do well to return his affections, Clara. Charles Kirkland is a good man."

I wanted to tell her that another good man already had my heart, but that would not be a good idea. Inwardly, I sighed and took another sip of tea as I thought about Erik's magnificent presence, how he always seemed to fill the room with an air of mystery that was so enticing it was impossible for any female to resist it. During our courtship, I had noticed many women eyeing him, their gazes turning dark as they followed his movements. I know that Erik never noticed them, nor was he aware of the aura that he projected, and that made him so much dearer to me.

"Oh, Mrs. Pine, I hope that you and your niece will come to the Kirkland's party this evening!" cried a girl sitting behind me. I didn't even turn around, as I had no interest as to see who it was.

"Of course we will be there," Aunt Mary replied. "We wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Biting back another groan, I picked up a biscuit and bit into it, trying not to scream.

-------

Reading through the note in his hand, Erik did his best not to run out the door and begin strangling every man in the street with his bare hands. A letter from Haleigh had arrived only an hour ago, and the serving man assigned to Erik had brought it straight up. At first, Erik had been excited to see what Haleigh wanted both him and Clara to do, but what he read had boiled his blood in his veins.

_Dear Erik,_

_A letter arrived from Clara a week after you left, and I realized at first glance that it could not be a good one. From the teardrop stains on the ink and paper, to the messy way that it was written, I saw that my dearest friend was afraid of what the future might hold both for her and for you. Apparently, Mr. Kirkland, the young man the one that Jerry told you about, the one that is interested in Clara, has been getting slightly more persistent with each passing day. Clara says that she's overheard the local gossips say that he's never met a more charming young woman, and claims that, at every social event that they attend together, Mr. Kirkland is always there, fussing over her like a mother hen._

_Erik, I don't want to alarm you, but Clara desperately needs you. I trust you not to do anything…unwise, but please be extremely careful in how and when you appear in public in that town. It is a small place where everyone knows everyone else, or everyone is friends or relatives with someone in town. I highly doubt that Mr. Savoy told his sister what you look like or gave her any sort of information on you, but still, be careful, or else this entire plan will fall apart. You need to find a way to comfort Clara, but in a manner that will not be discovered. I have faith that you will do that. I will write soon, and in the mean time, I wish you luck in your quest to contact our darling girl._

_Yours truly,_

_Haleigh Winters_

Despite the spots of rage forming in front of his eyes, Erik made a decision. Tonight would be the night he would try and get word to Clara. If she needed him that much, he would do everything in his power to make it so. For the sake of his future with the woman he loved and who loved him in return, he had to spare her any sort of pain she might be suffering.

And he knew just how to do it.

-------

The ballroom was amazingly cool with the windows open, allowing the chilled night air from the Great Lake to flow in; however, it did nothing to dispel the scents of a dozen different perfumes and colognes. The candles on the walls had gone out in the evening breezes, but the ones in the large chandelier were still brightly burning, providing all the light we could possibly need. The atmosphere could be considered much nicer than the ones back home, were it not for one thing…

"Really, Mr. Kirkland, I am far too tired to dance this evening," I said, putting on one of my best false smiles. "Perhaps you should ask Miss Olivia Vanton to dance; she is quite a lovely girl."

To myself, I thought, '_Olivia also happens to be one of the girls who are envious of this annoying man courting me_.'

For a moment, Charles gave me a pitying look. "Shall I fetch you a drink, then, Miss Savoy?" he asked, acting as if my granting his request would send him straight to heaven.

"No, I think I will get some air in the gardens outside," I said, rising from my chair near the dance floor. "A solitary walk away from any noise and distractions might just be what I need."

Charles Kirkland merely nodded, his flat, mouse-brown hair flopping about as he did so. "Certainly," he said, smiling. "While you are gone, I shall go and speak to your aunt and uncle, then, shall I?"

Before I could protest, he was gone. Finally alone for the first time that evening, I slipped outside and into the gardens. The noise from the party could be heard through the open windows, so I decided to wander deeper into the foliage to escape the chatter coming from indoors. I walked along a brick pathway until a line of small trees hid the Kirkland house from view, successfully blocking out the noise as well. Savoring the cool night air, I fanned myself and sighed with contentment.

"You are still using my gift, I see," declared a voice I would recognize anywhere.

"Erik?" I breathed, whirling around. "Oh, Lord, please be here and not something in my head!"

A shadow moved, and there before me stood Erik, clad completely in black from head to foot. Even his mask was black, covering the top half of his face. I gasped at the magnificent sight he made, my eyes widening in awe. A seductive smirk pulled up the corners of his lips, and I found myself needing to kiss them at once…so I stepped up to him and did so. His strong arms slipped around me and pulled me close as his warm mouth pressed against mine. Against my will, my eyes slipped shut as I savored the taste and feel of Erik's lips against mine, sighing in contentment as I did so.

When the need for air became too great, we separated, but just enough to breathe. Erik's arms continued to hold me close as I buried my face into his neck, taking in the smell of sandalwood and a hint of roses, as well as a musky scent that was purely Erik's. His gloved hands slid up and down my back, offering me comfort as he whispered French words into my ears. It was so beautiful that I never wanted it to end.

"Take me away, Erik," I whispered. "I can't stand it here anymore!"

"Hush, my love," his soft, musical voice murmured. "We will be together soon. I promise you this."

"It _must_ be soon," I softly said, a touch of urgency in my voice. "Charles Kirkland has been pursuing me, and if we do not leave soon…"

"What?" Erik asked, his hand tilting my head back so he could look into my eyes. "Do you fear he will ask to marry you?" I nodded and he pulled me back into his embrace. "I will never let that happen, my love, never. It will be soon, for you know that I would not see you unhappy."

I sighed as he kissed my forehead and released me. When we were an arms' length apart, he blew me a kiss and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me wondering if it was merely a dream. However, I looked down and spotted a single red rose lying in the pathway, a beautiful black ribbon embroidered with gold wrapped around its stem.

-------

He silently watched as she picked up the rose and inhaled the scent as she turned and walked back towards the mansion. Soon, everything would fall into place, and the two of them would spend the rest of their lives in happiness. Patience was a virtue, but if some fool tried to take Clara from him before then, there would be hell to pay.

Giving his love one last glance, the Phantom vanished into the darkness of the night.

-------

AN: Wow, can you just picture Erik in all black? Sexy! Please review!


	18. Tears of Longing

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I do not own him. I don't own Manistee, either, since it's a real place; I am only using it because it's a fantastic town that I visited and now love very dearly.

AN: Sorry about not updating sooner: the website was being a pain in the butt again, so I couldn't load it. On a friendlier note, this is kind of a sad-sappy chapter ahead, so beware! Also, I humbly beg you to review, and to please support me and my poor muse. Thanks, and enjoy!

**Chapter 18: Tears of Longing:**

I paused a moment before reentering the Kirkland mansion, trying to gather my thoughts. I could still feel Erik's lips on mine and felt the velvety petals of the rose in my hand, the satin ribbon elegantly dangling from the end of its stem. I knew that I would be questioned about where I had gotten such a thing, but I could always say that I merely found it in the gardens, a token accidentally left behind by two lovers while they were leaving. Since I didn't have a reputation for lying (much), everyone would likely believe me. And so, clutching my precious love token in my hand, I entered the ballroom.

From where I stood in the doorway, I could clearly see the Kirkland family talking with my aunt and uncle, who appeared to be in unusually high spirits. Aunt Mary was talking animatedly with Mrs. Kirkland while Uncle Geoff talked with the senior Mr. Kirkland; Charles stood at his father's side, beaming happily as the others chatted around him. For some reason, the look on Charles' face made me uneasy, and I did not want to see him again before the night was over.

Instead, I turned right around and returned to the gardens, hoping that no one had seen me.

-------

From his position behind a clump of tall, thick bushes, Erik watched as Clara once again slipped out of the ballroom and outdoors. She had a tense air about her, one that hadn't been there earlier that evening. Had she seen or heard something inside that caused her distress? His eyes drifted to her hands, watching as Clara's delicately gloved fingers clutched at the rose in an almost fearful manner.

'_It must be that man who is pursuing her_,' Erik thought to himself, growling deep in his throat. '_He must be doing something that has caused my angel to be like this_!'

Silently sending Clara his love, the Phantom vanished into the shadows without a sound.

-------

The end of the ball could not come fast enough for me, though it passed far quicker since I spent the rest of the evening outdoors. After sneaking back through the private grounds, I had found a bench and sat down, staring at my rose and thinking about the man I loved. A smile came to my face as I thought about Erik and the way he had looked that night.

'_Charles could only dream of holding my heart_,' I thought, smiling as I gazed at the beautiful black ribbon etched in gold thread. '_He can only pray that, one day, he will look and act as suave as my Erik does_!'

Never had I seen Erik look as dark and seductive as he had this night. It was as though he were a part of the night, a shadow that was able to move and walk wherever he pleased without being seen or caught. He was a spirit or ghost, so silently had he moved along the stone walkway. With his mask and hair the color of darkness, only his bright green eyes had shown, sparkling like green fire as he looked at me. Just remembering the blazing light in Erik's eyes made me swoon!

I sighed and lifted the rose to my face, inhaling its scent and relishing it. It was a gift from Erik, and I would have to press and dry it so that I would be able to keep it in my jewelry box as the treasure it was. I loved roses, and now they would forever have a special meaning for me.

Suddenly, the church bells tolled the midnight hour, and I knew that the ball must be ending soon. Rising from my seat, I slowly approached the mansion and peeked inside. People were already drifting towards the front doors, asking for their coats, hats, shawls, and other garments, and I could spot my aunt and uncle standing there in frustration as they looked for me. Sighing, I took a deep breath and entered the room, approaching them by hiding behind others so that I managed to magically appear before them in the thinning crowd.

"Oh, Clara, there you are!" Aunt Mary exclaimed, frowning at me slightly, though she still looked oddly happy for some strange reason. "Where have you been?"

"We've been searching for you all night!" Uncle Geoff said, looking me up and down in case I had somehow come to harm. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said, stretching the truth a little. I was fine, but the faint glow of happiness coming from them made me a little concerned. "I'd like to go home, please; I don't feel very well at all."

This caused my aunt to fetch my shawl at once and wrap me in it, cooing sympathetic words as she ushered me into the carriage. The horses took off at the slightest signal, and before I knew it, I was at my aunt's home and being ushered upstairs to rest by a concerned Penny. Once I was dressed in my nightgown and given a sleeping draught, I was left alone to my thoughts about what had happened earlier that evening.

Erik's perfectly timed appearance managed to sooth my nerves, but now they had returned. For the past several weeks, I had been concerned about the amount of attention being plied on me by Mr. Kirkland, and now that he was on such good terms with my aunt and uncle, I began to grow fearful about the future. It was clear that the Kirkland family was quite wealthy and influential in town, and that many families with eligible daughters would give their right hands to be linked to such a family. I, however, merely wanted Erik, but how was I supposed to tell my aunt and uncle that? Given the chance, I knew that Aunt Mary would wed Kari to one of the numerous Kirkland boys; I merely had the displeasure of attracting the attentions of the eldest of them!

'_Oh, Lord, what if Charles asked Aunt Mary and Uncle Geoff for my hand in marriage tonight at the ball_?'

My body went cold at the thought. If he had actually done so, there would be a telegraphed message going out to my father tomorrow morning, probably before I was awake and could prevent such a thing from happening. If Papa heard about a wealthy Northern man asking for my hand, he would likely agree to it without a second thought! My life would be over, and I would never be able to live in happiness with Erik!

'_Please, Erik, help me_!' I silently prayed to him, wherever he was in town. '_We must get away soon, before it's too late_!'

Oh, how I wished that he would come and find me again tonight. There was nothing I needed more right now than to feel his strong arms wrapped around me, soothing away my fears with his strength and his musical voice. I longed for Erik's whispers in French, flattering and soothing me with beautiful words that I could not understand, but still felt the emotion of. I needed my fiancée here with me, now more than ever.

However, I knew he would not come. If he did, I knew that someone would see him sneaking into my room, and then he would be found out. All of our plans would be ruined, and we would never be allowed to marry and be together. I could not let that happen, but still, I hoped and prayed that Erik would soon come to me and take me away from here, before it was too late.

Sighing, I reached over and blew out the candle before rolling over to sleep.

-------

As dawn crested the eastern hills, Erik found himself blinking in surprise. Had the night really passed so quickly? It felt as though his head had hit the pillow only a moment ago, and now it was morning?

'_Did I really see my beloved Angel last night_?' he thought to himself, glancing at the pile of crumpled black clothing at the foot of his bed.

Getting up, Erik quietly padded over and picked up the black shirt he had worn the night before. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled. Roses, another light, flowery scent…and something distinctly female lingered there on the silk.

He closed his eyes. '_It had been real_. _I held her in my arms as she kissed me, spoke to me and begged me to take her away from here_.'

And he had wanted to take her away, right then and there, sweeping her off her feet as she stood in his arms, her breath warm and delicious against his skin. At that moment, he would have done anything and everything she asked of him, even if it were the stars in the night sky that she wanted.

'_If I had taken her, we would have been married by now. I would have found a priest, brought him before the altar and forced a ceremony out of him_.'

It was that thought that hurt the most. The mere image of the two of them sleeping in this bed, husband and wife, was enough to drive him mad with need. Had he acted last night, he would have had his precious Clara wrapped in his arms as they greeted the morning together. Such a charming picture danced behind his closed eyes.

A knock at the door shocked Erik out of his blissful daydreams. "Sir, are you awake? Will you be wanting a bath and breakfast?" a female voice called through the door.

Inwardly, he cursed, remembering that before he had left last night, he had requested a servant to wake him so he could start the day early. Sighing, he looked down, glad that he had put on a nightshirt before he'd gone to sleep.

"I will draw my own bath, but you may bring breakfast," Erik called as he approached the door. "You may leave it outside the door."

"Very good, sir," the maid replied before hurrying away.

An hour later, Erik sat at a table in his rooms, chewing on a bit of buttered pastry as he applied the last bit of his makeup. He now resembled a 'normal' man, but he felt extremely unhappy in the unnaturalness it represented. Clara had accepted the face behind the mask, and without her there to see him as the flawed man he was, Erik himself could not accept the way he now looked. Clara had opened his eyes about what lay behind the mask, and strangely enough, he no longer wanted to look like the other men around him; he only wanted to look like the man Clara loved and smiled at, mask and all.

'_Soon it will not be necessary…soon, there will be no need for such things_,' Erik thought as he applied a few more dabs of flesh-colored cream.

It was primarily a facial powder mixed with water, much like the stuff actors on stage wore. It was thick and heavy, but it would not run if he sweated, as he was sure to do in the summer heat. After living underground in his lair for much of his life, Erik was still unused to the heat of the sun. Summer in the South had been torture, which was why he had always had his curtains drawn and the house kept as cool as possible. Now, though, he would have to travel outside to look around and gather information about the town, trying to see where he could find Clara and how close he could get to her before he was discovered.

A last brush of the makeup over his face, and he was done. Looking carefully at himself, Erik mentally calculated how long he could keep up this façade before the itchy cream drove him mad. Giving himself about four or five hours to explore outdoors, Erik pulled on a beige outfit, everything a light color so that he would not suffer in the day's heat. Donning a hat and grabbing a walking stick, he quickly headed out the door and into the busy streets.

The moment he stepped onto the sidewalk, Erik felt the eyes of dozens of women on him. It was the same feeling he had experienced while traveling, and he did not like it at all. Oh, it had been a constant fantasy of his once, being attractive enough to catch the eye of any woman that walked by, but now it just annoyed him. He was meant for _one_ woman, and they were not her. Ignoring the adoring and flirting gazes, Erik set out to see the town of Manistee.

Thankfully, it was not a large town, but it was still quite popular and surprisingly busy. Being a place on the edge of a tremendously large lake, Manistee was a port city with ships of all sorts coming up and down the coast, and had numerous docks and harbors set along the water. All manner of sea vessels came through, from large ships carrying cargo down from Canada to little private boats meant for pleasure travels. Children and adults alike traveled up and down the docks, glancing at the boats and meeting new people from other places, forging friendships or just stopping for a little chat. Women with parasols chided their little ones if they got too close to the water, and men shared information on ships with whichever of their children would listen to them. It was quite charming to watch, but Erik managed to pull himself away and focus on his task.

To Erik's surprise, there was a large river running through the center of town, separating one half of Manistee from the other. One side held the smaller homes of the middle and lower classes, as well as the smaller businesses and shops. On the other side were the large homes of the wealthy, which, thanks to a kind old woman, was where he found Clara's aunt's home. He also discovered it to be the busier part of town, containing the government buildings, public library, and larger stores that catered to the richer folk. Erik decided to avoid the public beaches there, as it made him uncomfortable to see others in their swimming outfits. However, he made a mental note to take Clara to a large, secluded beach somewhere as soon as he was able.

His exploring done, Erik went back to his room and removed the makeup that was currently itching like mad. As he scrubbed away at the paste, he quickly concluded that Manistee was quite a good place to flee from. There where boats coming and going from here constantly, and most of the people were only here as an escape from the summer heat. If he were to take Clara away by ship, it would be incredibly difficult for the law authorities to follow and find them. And since Manistee was so far north, it would be a short trip to the Canadian border, and from there they make their escape.

Smiling, Erik wiped the last bit of soap from his face and put on his mask, readying himself for nightfall. After all, he had a midnight appointment with an angel.

-------

All of those years as an Opera Ghost were not wasted that night. Using the same black outfit and black mask, Erik slipped out of his room and into the night, listening outside the open windows of wealthy families with daughters to marry off. As expected, he soon found a home with three daughters of marriageable age, hiding in the shadows to listen to the gossip the girls were throwing about the room.

"And then that Miss Savoy had to go and disappear at the ball last night, leaving poor Charles Kirkland alone with his family!" exclaimed a shrill voice. Apparently this one wasn't long out of youth yet, her voice still high and childish. "I tried to get him to dance, but he refused!"

"That's because he was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Pine about their niece," a more mature, female voice replied, this one deeper than the other. "We all know that Mr. Kirkland has had his eye on that Southern belle since the moment she said 'hello' to him in that Southern drawl she has."

"It's not fair!" cried another voice, this one obviously coming from a middle daughter. "I saw him first, so why does _she_ get Charles instead of me?"

"Perhaps it's because she's got that smooth accent and better manners than you?" asked the youngest voice in a snobbish tone. "And it doesn't hurt that I overheard them talking about Miss Savoy becoming engaged to Mr. Kirkland before the summer season is over!"

Erik's blood began to boil at the same time the girls began to yell at one another. Slipping away, Erik pulled up his hood and began walking towards the Pine mansion. Finding a lit open window on the ground floor, he perched underneath in the shrubbery, keeping his ears open to the male and female voices within.

"Is this really right, Mary?" the male voice asked. "I mean, I can hardly approve of a marriage when Clara isn't my ward, or me her legal guardian!"

"Don't be silly Geoffrey." The feminine voice could only belong to Clara's aunt, Mary. "Besides, Richard instructed me to find a beau for Clara while she's here. He mentioned something about a masked man from Rockford wanting to marry her, and Richard wouldn't hear of it for some reason."

"Why not?" her husband asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

Mary laughed. "I tend not to question my brother about anything; it's bad for my health! But to tell you the truth, I think it's because Richard just doesn't want to see his little girl grow up, get married, and leave him." She sighed. "She's his only daughter, and he's just being protective of her, like you are to our girls. However, I think it's about time she wedded, and Charles Kirkland is such a nice boy. Also, he _did_ ask for her hand, and the least we could do is tell Richard about it and ask what to do."

Erik bit his lip as he silently slipped away from the window and glanced upwards to the second floor. There were two little girls in the home, he knew, and he had to be sure to choose the correct window. However, with little information to go on, he merely climbed up one of the two huge oak trees lining that side of the house and peered in, thankful that the rooms had balconies and were close together.

His first choice was wrong, as he found himself looking at a little blonde head lying on a pillow. Biting back a curse, he moved to the next room, this time sighing in relief upon seeing his beloved Clara brushing out her hair in front of a vanity mirror. Her eyes were closed as she performed her task, and Erik carefully opened the large windows to slip inside, silently gliding up behind her as she stopped brushing and aside her brush, her eyes open and focused on her lap.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, a gloved hand reaching out to caress her hair.

Clara gasped and turned around.

-------

Turning around in my seat, I tried to see if he was really here or merely a dream. Standing up, I raised a hand to his face, touching the soft skin there as his warm body pressed against me. Sighing, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck, savoring this moment as I had the night before.

"I missed you," I whispered, tilting my head so my lips were pressed close to his ear.

"I missed you as well, my love," he whispered back, caressing my body as he held me close. Then, without warning, he pulled back. "Angel, there is something I must tell you."

The seriousness in his voice alarmed me, and the look in his green eyes made my heart stop in my chest. "Erik, what is it?" I asked, desperate to hear why he looked so disturbed.

"It appears that your suitor is more persistent than I previously thought," he said, frowning. "He has asked your aunt and uncle for your hand in marriage."

"Oh, God," I gasped. I felt the sudden need to sit down, my knees going weak. Erik, seeing my plight, swept me up into his strong arms and carried me to my bed, settling me on it before taking a spot beside me, his arms never releasing me. One of his gloved hands glided through my hair in an attempt to sooth me, my face burying itself in his black silk shirt.

"This means we must move quickly, before your father receives a message from your aunt and before he can send a reply," Erik whispered into my ear, pulling me close. I nodded, but did not reply, so he continued. "We will go north into Canada, then make our way to Europe from there," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. "Once we are there, I will show you everything you dreamed of and more."

I sighed and smiled as I turned my head to look up at him. "It sounds beautiful," I said, giving him a soft, quick kiss on the lips. "When do we leave?"

Erik frowned in thought. "It must be within the next few days, before your father can reply to your aunt's message," he replied. His green eyes drifted to my numerous empty trunks. "Can you be ready by then? I'm sorry to say that you will have to leave much of this behind, my love, but I will be happy to buy you a whole new wardrobe, should you wish it."

"It sounds perfect."

I gave a soft giggle as I kissed him again, this time receiving a passionate one in return. I could feel myself melting into his arms; after a horrible day of tea with empty-headed girls and being watched like a hawk by my aunt and uncle, this was heaven. After several moments, we separated, and Erik silently slipped off my bed, blowing me a kiss as he vanished out my window. I got up and went to close it behind him, but left it unlocked for later visits. With that done, I turned to my bed and slid in, lying down and closing my eyes.

**_I love you, my Angel_**, Erik's voice whispered into my ear.

I smiled as I drifted off to sleep, knowing I would dream about Erik until dawn.

-------

AN: I love sappy chapters! More good stuff coming up, I promise! Please review!


	19. Revelations

Disclaimer: Erik and the real town of Manistee are not mine. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: Someone asked where Manistee is located. It is on Lake Michigan, and if you Google the city, it has its own website. Not to sound like a travel agent, but I highly recommend it for a quiet getaway with friends or family; it's peaceful, beautiful, and they are very friendly there. Review!

**Chapter 19: Revelations:**

I awoke the next morning with a mixture of feelings that left me feeling ill. I was happy from Erik's visit, but terribly disturbed about the news he had brought with him. I had suspected Charles of being interested in me, but _never_ did I imagine that he would propose so soon! I thought I would have at least another month or so before the proposal occurred, giving me plenty of time to run away with Erik and leave this all behind.

Sighing, I rolled over in my bed, noticing that the sun had yet to rise. They say that the dawn brings hope of a new day; however, my hopes were ruined by the mere thought of my family trying to marry me to someone I didn't like, much less love. If Charles' proposal had happened _before_ I had met Erik, I would be thrilled to finally have a man like Charles Kirkland ask to marry me. Mr. Kirkland was a decent man, but after experiencing the dark, mysterious, seductive air that was Erik, every other man I encountered seemed dull and lifeless. No other man would do for me but Erik.

'_How could Aunt Mary do this to me without asking how I feel about this_?' I thought, torn between despair and anger. '_It's not right, nor is it fair_!'

I had always planned to marry for love, as my parents had, but apparently that was going to be denied to me. I would have to wed someone my parents approved of, though every time I looked at Charles I had to fight not to wince at the sight of the man. Charles was a tall, gangly creature with limp hair, eerie pale eyes that were nearly all white, and he always wore clothing that was wrong for him! He was nothing like Erik; Erik was a man who commanded attention with his incredible green eyes and intense demeanor; small wonder that women always tried to get his attention, even when he was courting me!

Yawning, I slid out of bed and began rummaging around in my closet before a thought hit me. If I were running away with Erik, I would have to pack lightly and pack soon, as I had no idea when we were leaving. Since there was no one up except myself and the kitchen staff, who would be making breakfast, now was the perfect time to ready myself. Picking up my suitcase, I opened it and let it lay open on the floor as I turned to sort through my wardrobe.

Many of my dresses were of the same style and colors, mostly outfits that were light and airy as the South was a hot place most of the year. I hadn't brought any winter clothes, but Erik had promised to purchase things for me as we traveled, so I needn't worry about that; a few of my shawls wrapped around one of the light coats I had brought would suit just fine until then. I dug to find my thickest wraps and folded them as small as I could before putting them into the suitcase, also packing two coats for the weather we might encounter in Canada.

Next came the harder part: which dresses would I take with me when I left? There were so many that I loved, but only a few could accompany me to where we were going. Most importantly, I would have to bring my most comfortable traveling clothes, for obvious reasons. Also, since Erik and I were going to be traveling the world, I would likely encounter many different trends and styles, so I would have to bring my most fashionable outfits for when we went out into town to socialize and explore.

My travel dresses were all hung together in the wardrobe, and I picked out the ones that wouldn't catch any unwanted attention. I chose three: one to wear when we left and the other two for spares. My favorite was a dark blue outfit with little to no ruffles and some lace lining the interior of the sleeves for elegance. A dusty, brick-red gown and a dark green dress of the same styles were now set aside to go in last so that they were easily accessed. A dozen handkerchiefs were also set aside.

Sighing, I glanced through the entirety of the clothes I had brought with me and the ones Aunt Mary had purchased for me since my arrival. My white dresses would have to remain, as they would easily show dirt, but some of the newer dresses would be ideal for use everywhere. From the rainbow array in front of me, I made my choice. First, I chose an elegant gown of deep purple, embroidered lightly with forest-green thread and trimmed with green ruffles and ribbons. An elegant pale blue evening gown was my next selection; it was a dress I had yet to wear, but was still extremely fond of. I also chose a bright peacock-blue dress with gold thread and ribbons trimming the hem and neckline.

**_Excellent choices, my dear_**, said a voice in my ear.

I gasped and dropped the peacock gown, trying to find the source of the voice. Catching my breath, I huffed and scolded myself for not recognizing Erik's voice in the first place. Even as I thought his name, the source of my shock opened my bedroom window and slipped inside, a bright smile on his masked face.

"Are you mad?" I gasped once he was in front of me, keeping my voice low so that I wouldn't be heard. "Someone might come in at any moment, and then where would we be?"

Erik merely smiled as he picked up the dropped gown and folded it neatly, setting it on top of those already inside the suitcase. I watched as he put the folded travel dresses on top, and closed and locked the lid before slipping it under my bed. Once that was done, he turned and stood in front of me, green eyes flashing in amusement and affection. A gloved hand slid up to my face and caressed my cheek.

I sighed and smiled up at him before getting a closer look at him. It was almost dawn, and yet it appeared that he hadn't changed clothes since last night! "Erik, have you been sitting outside my window all night?" I quietly asked, hoping that it wasn't so.

The right side of his mouth quirked up into a smile as his fingers stroked my jaw. "Not _all_ night, my love, but most of it. I could not bear to leave you for long," Erik whispered, his voice soft and heavy with emotion as he touched me. "I wanted to be sure you were alright."

I couldn't prevent a sigh from escaping my lips as my eyes fluttered halfway shut. "I'm alright," I replied, smiling as I opened my brown eyes to look into his beautiful green ones. "I decided to start packing early, before everyone woke up."

"A wise decision," he softly said, sliding his arms around my waist and bringing me closer to him.

A faint glimmer from the horizon caught my attention and I turned my head. Erik, in an attempt to see what had caught my eye, turned his as well, maneuvering our bodies so that we could look out of my balcony window, me still wrapped in his arms. Together, we happily watched as the bright, golden orb rose over the lake, the light reflecting like a million silver and multi-colored jewels on the water. Glorious shades of red, orange, and gold set the sky ablaze with light, and the warmth of that light soon reached inside to wrap the two of us in its embrace like a blanket. It was breathtaking to watch and feel, and after the sun was fully above the Great Lake, I allowed myself to breathe freely once more, Erik's arms tightening around my waist as I felt his body heat through the thin, black silk shirt.

"Beautiful," I whispered, smiling as I snuggled closer to his chest.

"Yes, you are," my fiancé replied, kissing me when I opened my mouth to correct him. A moment later he pulled back, a pleased look on his face. "I have purchased two tickets on the next ship heading for Canada," he whispered, making it so that I only heard his voice. "It leaves in three days. You will have to find a way to leave the house that morning, alone and unescorted. I will fetch your suitcase the night before so that you need not bring it yourself. Meet me at the local bookshop, and try to look surprised when you see me. My newest mask makes my face appear whole, so you will have to wait for me to speak to recognize me."

I gave a quiet chuckle. "I would recognize you no matter what you looked like," I said, my voice also soft. "Now, you must go before someone comes in or sees you leave! The servants will all be up soon!"

Erik nodded before giving me a soft kiss and slipping back out the window, keeping to the last lingering shadows of the night.

-------

It was all falling into place. The boat passage tickets were safely tucked away in his hotel room, waiting to be used. It hadn't been easy to procure them, given that he had purchased them late at night when all of the shops were closed and everyone was returning to their hotels or homes for the evening. Last night, however, after watching Clara drift into a deep sleep, Erik had slipped away from his perch in the tree directly outside her window. He had then returned to his hotel room, put on his new mask and makeup and gone downstairs to the parlor area where men were chatting and gambling. Drifting around the room in a dark suit ensemble, Erik listened to the conversations, if only to gain information about the Kirkland's and the Pine families. However, what he found instead was even better.

One of the guests at the hotel, an older man traveling on his honeymoon with his new, lovely young bride, was at a loss of what to do with his boat ticket to Canada. His wife had taken such a liking to the small port town of Manistee that she wanted to stay there, perhaps even settle there to raise their family. The man, Mr. Fitzwilliam, if Erik remembered correctly, now had to get rid of his boat tickets, but had found no buyers. None of the other men there wanted them, as they already had set travel plans, so Erik had decided to act.

Using his talents of ventriloquism and hypnosis, Erik threw his voice near Fitzwilliam's ear, hinting that he might want to go get a drink at the bar. Fitzwilliam had acted accordingly, ordering a glass of scotch and drinking it down as Erik approached him. The two men had chatted, and after Erik had poured a fair number of drinks down the other man's throat, the two had clasped hands and separated, Erik now in possession of the two tickets heading northwards. Once that was done, Erik had gone upstairs and secretly packed all of his belongings away, readying himself for the upcoming voyage. He had then returned to Clara's window to spend the rest of the night watching her sleep.

Now Erik carefully pulled up his hood and silently crept through the empty streets back to his hotel, entering through a back door and going up the servant's staircase to his floor. From there, he quickly slipped to his room, shutting the door behind him, the privacy sign hanging on the outer doorknob; there would be no interruptions as he caught up on his rest. Erik then quickly changed into a night shirt and got into bed, snuggling under the covers and falling asleep instantly.

-------

I was in a rather excited and very good mood all day today as I thought about how I would soon be leaving all of this behind me. Breakfast and lunch with my aunt and uncle had been filled with cheerful conversation, which was nothing new. It was usually dinner when we had trouble, as that was when we tended to talk about our day, and since my days were usually filled with dull tea party conversations, I was always reluctant to say anything.

However, nothing seemed to lower my spirits, not even the horrid tea parties that I'd had to attend both this morning and in the afternoon, so when my uncle asked me about them, I gave him a chipper answer with a smile on my face as I ate my dessert. I was finishing up the last of my berry pie when the butler entered the room. He had a very surprised look on his face, and when he spoke his announcement, it was clear why.

"Mr. Charles Kirkland to see Miss Savoy, sir," he said, glancing at me so quickly I wasn't sure if it had happened.

I swallowed heavily as my aunt and uncle turned towards me, broad smiles on their faces. If they were this happy, it was only because of one thing: they knew why Charles was here, and if I were correct, it was likely to officially ask for my hand in marriage. It was very likely, so I would have to do my best to act surprised when he proposed. And so, gathering all my courage, I nodded.

"If you'll excuse me," I said, rising from my seat.

Aunt Mary seemed to be beaming at me. "Oh, take your time, dear," she chirped, sipping her wine as I walked away from the table.

Charles was currently standing in the parlor, looking at a few portraits of my aunt's family that lined the mantle of the fireplace. He turned around when I entered the room, the heels of my shoes loud against the wood of the floor. As I approached the couch, he reached out and took one of my hands in his, giving me a smile with those horrible thin lips of his. I barely held back a cringe of revulsion as he touched me, instead focusing my thoughts on Erik's wonderful warm kisses.

"Miss Savoy, you look lovely this evening," he said, eyeing my pale pink evening dress trimmed with white lace.

I covered another wince with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Kirkland," I replied, removing my hand from his while taking a seat on the couch. Charles took a seat across from me.

Inwardly, I was fuming. I absolutely detested this dress, but Aunt Mary had come up to my room and insisted that I wear it to dinner this evening. It looked very sweet and modest, nothing like the more daring Southern garments I normally wore to dinner. I had wondered why my aunt had been so adamant about my wearing a dress in a color and style I detested, but now I knew; she had expected Charles to come by, and had wanted me dressed accordingly for the occasion.

"Miss Savoy…Clara," he said, looking at me with his pale eyes as he reached over and took my hand once more. "I…I have no experience in matters such as this…in matters of the heart. Therefore I must be bold when I say that I am very much in love with, and attracted to, you and to your Southern charms and manners." He looked down at my hand, which was now firmly clasped between both of his. "I would be honored if you would be my wife."

I suddenly felt very ill. Although Erik had informed me that this might happen, I did not think it would happen so soon! Gracious, I doubted that my father had even received the telegram from my aunt yet, and here Charles was, proposing to me! Swallowing around the sick feeling tickling my throat, I pulled my hand back, rising from my seat on the couch.

"Mr. Kirkland," I said in my most firm and authoritative Southern voice. "While I am quite flattered by your offer, I'm afraid that I cannot accept it."

Charles looked at me with a stunned look on his face. Then, without warning, he smiled. "So you are waiting for your father's approval before you accept?" he said, an amused spark in his eyes. "How proper you are to do such a thing! And a fine woman, a very fine woman you are as well to act according to your father's wishes!"

My fingers clutched at my skirts as I tried not to loose my temper. "Mr. Kirkland, I'm afraid you don't understand," I said calmly, keeping my emotions under control. "I cannot marry you at all. I am in love with another man."

"Another man?" he asked, the smile now wiped off his face. "But your aunt has clearly stated that you have no suitors back home, that you are quite available." He was silent for a moment. "Or is it that you love a man and he does not love you in return?"

My eyes narrowed. "He does love me in return!" I snapped, finally having enough of having to deal with this man. "You know nothing about us and our love for one another! How dare you presume to know anything about what we feel and how we think?"

I watched as Charles began to look furious. "Who is this man, then, Miss Savoy?" he said, looking me in the eye. "Clearly your family must not approve of such a man if I were allowed to court you as I have. This man must be no gentleman, and have nothing to offer you if you are here instead of back in your own home, planning a wedding."

"My family is extremely shortsighted when it comes to me and how I feel," I snarled, happy to vent my feelings. "They care nothing about my happiness or about how I wish to marry a man that is far more then they could ever be! If you stood beside him, you would be _nothing_, nothing more than insect compared to him!"

"Obviously I must be something, as I am the one currently in favor with your family," Charles coldly replied as he walked over to me. He was taller than I, but he lacked the impressive air that Erik had. "Also, I happen to have your aunt and uncle's permission to wed you."

"But not my father's," I retorted, looking him in the eye without fear. "Even if you did manage to gain his permission, I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth!"

For the first time in my life, I heard Charles growl in the back of his throat before stomping past me to the door, flinging it open before heading down the hall and shouting for a servant to bring him my aunt and uncle. In moments, they were there, and I could clearly here the three of them talking. A moment later, they entered the room, blocking the way so that I could not pass.

"Clara," my aunt said in a firm tone of voice as she took my right arm. "Sit down. We must talk."

"No. There is nothing to talk about," I said, now on my last nerve. "I _won't_ marry Charles Kirkland, and that is final. There is no possible way you could make me! You are _not_ my parents, nor my legal guardians."

"But you _are_ currently living under our roof," Uncle Geoff snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "And we have the right to throw you out with nothing but the clothes on your back, should we wish to."

"So you are going to throw me out if I do not accept this sham of a marriage proposal?" I demanded.

"It is no sham," Charles protested, coming to stand on my left. "You are the one I wish to wed."

"Well, you are most certainly _not_ the man I wish to marry!" I cried, pulling out of my aunt's grip.

"This is about that masked man in Rockford, isn't it?" asked Aunt Mary, grey eyes narrowing.

"Masked man?" Charles said in disbelief. "You would rather marry a masked freak than me?"

I slapped him, causing my aunt and uncle to gasp. "How dare you call him a freak?" I yelled as Uncle Geoff took hold of my arms, preventing me from further defending Erik's honor. "He's far better than you are! He's thoughtful, and kind, and chivalrous, and most of all, he loves me like a man loves a woman, not a piece of property to obtain and own for money!"

"Clara Elizabeth Savoy, you will calm down this instant!" roared my uncle as he shook me.

"I will _not_!" I yelled back, raising a foot and kicking him firmly in the leg with my heel. With a cry of pain, he promptly released me, clutching his thigh. "If wanting to marry the man I love means being expelled from this house, then so be it."

I managed to push both my aunt and Charles out of my way, storming past them and up the stairs to my room, where I promptly locked the door and placed a chair in front of it to keep everyone out. I heard loud voices downstairs before I heard the front door slam shut. The house was quiet for a brief moment before another door slammed closed. I heard quiet footsteps approach my door and braced myself in case it was either my aunt or uncle. However, it was Penny's voice through the wood.

"Miss Clara, it's safe now," she whispered through the keyhole. "They've gone and locked themselves up in the library, Miss! They're right upset about you refusing that ghost of a man!"

I laughed to myself, knowing that Penny disliked Charles as much as I did, and her vocal insult of him told me that she was alone in the hall and not a Trojan Horse my aunt had sent. I moved the chair and opened the door just enough for Penny to slip in. She curtseyed before helping me slip out of my dress and undid my hair before helping me into a nightgown. Once that was done, I let her go back to her own room to rest for the evening since we had both had enough excitement for one night. After she was gone, I locked the door and turned to head for my bed.

However, my evening was not over yet. There, sitting on my covers, was a red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

-------

From his position outside the house, Erik had seen and heard the entire proposal and the arguments that followed. He had half expected Clara to break down into tears or give into them, but to his surprise, she stood up for both him and for their love. Never had he seen her act so passionately or so fiercely to anything! And she certainly was ravishing when she was angry or upset...

After she had fled upstairs, Erik had crept up to her balcony, watching for the right moment to show his support. He then left the rose he had brought as a gift on her bed while she let her maid out of the room. He gained great pleasure in seeing Clara's surprised look as she picked up the rose and stared at it. But the greatest pleasure came when her lovely, doe brown eyes filled with love and gratitude as she put the rose on the pillow next to her and fell asleep beside it.

Satisfied, the Phantom emerged from his hiding spot behind the shadows of the curtains. Silently, he took a seat near the bed, watching over his Angel as he waited for dawn.

-------

AN: Review!


	20. Breaking Away

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I do not own him. I don't own Manistee, either, since it's a real place; I am only using it b/c it's a great town I love very dearly.

AN: Wow, I never expected to get 20 chapters into this story! That's a new record for me! Unfortunately, this story must eventually come to an end. I might write another Phantom story later, but that would depend if anyone will read it…and if my Erik muse can give me an idea for later use! Review!

**Chapter 20: Breaking Away**:

Never had Erik seen anything as lovely as his Clara asleep in her bed, a peaceful smile upon her face as she dreamed. Did she dream of him, of the love he had for her? He certainly hoped so, as she was the one who ruled his thoughts whenever sleep took him. Tonight, it hadn't been enough to sit outside her window and watch her…he had to be close to her, to smell her floral perfume and feel her presence near him.

A snuffling sound from the bed jolted him from his thoughts. Watching closely, Erik saw brown lashes flutter as they lifted, revealing sleepy brown orbs as his precious Angel awoke.

* * *

My dreams had been full of horrible visions, mostly those of my father, aunt, and uncle forcing me into a marriage I didn't want. I was in a wedding gown, walking down the aisle as Papa escorted me up to my bridegroom, a man who looked at me with his pale eyes and happily accepted the chain that my father gave to him, a chain that bound my wrists together behind my bridal bouquet. Everyone smiled, all of them happy…except for me. 

Suddenly, I could feel another presence in the room, a familiar aura that I had felt before and found comforting. It was watchful, as though protecting me from the outside world, and I knew of only one man who had such an air about him.

'_Erik_,' I thought, letting my eyes flutter open and my dreams end.

There he was, splendid in black silk and cloak, his green eyes focused on me. I smiled sleepily and reached out for him. A black gloved hand enveloped mine, and I gently pulled him towards the bed, eager to have him hold me close in a loving embrace. Erik was too happy to oblige, a sweet, gentle smile forming on his lips as he lay down beside me. I could feel his strong arms slide under and around me, pulling me close to his chest so that my head lay just over his heart.

"I can hear your heart beat," I whispered to him.

From where I lay, I could hear his chest rumble as he gave a quiet hum of pleasure under my ear. He said nothing, but I could tell he was very pleased with the situation from the way his arms wrapped even tighter around me. In the back of my mind, I knew that this was highly improper, but I did not care; I was with the man I loved, and that was all that mattered. I was in heaven, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin such a glorious moment.

As time crept by, I could see the darkened sky begin to lighten oh-so-faintly, the sun's rays slowly trickling though the window that was wide open, letting in a cool breeze from the Great Lake only a mile away. The air began to grow warm with the summer heat, and I found myself drifting into a light doze as Erik's fingers combed through my hair.

* * *

He did not wish to wake her, but with dawn coming, he must speak with her, no matter how lovely his future bride was as she slept against him; there would time enough for that after they were wed. 

"Angel?" he whispered, reluctantly pulling his hand away from her warm, luscious hair. "Angel, I must speak with you before I go."

Erik heard her sigh as she woke, her head lifting up just enough for her brown eyes to meet his. "Yes, Erik?" she softly replied, eyes still clouded with sleep.

Oh, how he loved it when she said his name! "Angel, as you know, I purchased our boat tickets not long ago," he whispered, looking her in the eye as he once again stroked her thick hair. "We must leave tomorrow if everything is to go as planned."

Clara nodded against his chest. "I know," she said, one hand reaching up to stroke his chest through his shirt; he practically purred at the feel of the silk rubbing against his skin. "Should I meet you tomorrow afternoon at the bookshop?"

"As early as you can," Erik replied, his voice husky and thick as her hand continued to rub against him. Unable to take anymore, he reached up and gently grasped her hand in one of his own. "You must stop, my love, otherwise I will ravish you here and now."

To his surprise, Clara gave a rather naughty chuckle as she tilted her head up and lightly brushed a kiss over his lips. "As you wish," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

A growl formed deep in the back of his throat as he carefully moved out from under her gentle touch. "I must go before I am seen," he said, barely hiding his need for her.

She sighed as she slid out of bed to stand along side him, her arms drifting up to embrace him. "Until tomorrow, my Erik," Clara whispered.

"Until later, my love," he replied, not intending to wait so long before seeing her again.

The two of them kissed their farewells before Erik pulled away and slipped out the window, vanishing into the leaves of the tree outside the balcony.

* * *

I couldn't hold back a sigh as I watched the love of my life vanish out the window. '_Oh, dear, how like a romance novel that sounds_!' I thought to myself, chuckling as I did so. 

However, I had to admit that it was true; Erik was my other half, the one I had been waiting for my entire life. After waiting so long, and after enduring endless lectures from my mother about not finding a husband, I had finally gotten the one thing I had always longed for in my heart…

"True love," I whispered as I went to the window, closing it against the morning breeze.

The sunrise that greeted me lifted my spirits as it cast me in a warm, golden blanket of light. Closing my eyes, I relished in the warmth I felt in my heart, knowing that, soon, I was going to be with Erik, and we would be married as soon as we left this prison that my family was forcing me into.

"Miss Clara?" called a voice through the door. "Are you up, Miss?"

I sighed, my perfect moment ruined. "What is it, Penny?" I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my right hand.

"Miss Clara, your Auntie declared that she wants you downstairs for an early morning breakfast," Penny said as she slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Again I sighed. "Can't you tell her I'm ill?" I asked as I went to sit down in front of my vanity.

"Afraid not, Miss," Penny said as she brushed my hair; from the tone of her voice, she was obviously on my side of this argument. "I already tried, and she says that you'd better be dead if you're going to miss this meal! Even then, I'm afraid she'll drag you down there, just to be sure!"

Groaning, I allowed my faithful maid to twist my hair up into an elaborate bun and to curl the two locks hanging on the side of my head. I was then forced into a horrid pink dress that my aunt had purchased for me when I had first arrived, right before I told her that I despised the color. From the exasperated look on Penny's face, I knew that this had to be a way for Aunt Mary to get a small bit of revenge on me for not accepting Charles' proposal.

After I was dressed, I took a deep breath and headed out into the house, trying to prepare myself for anything. A butler announced my arrival to those seated in the dining room, and I was shocked and appalled at seeing Charles there, a bright smile on his face. I barely managed not to scowl at him, and instead merely ignored his presence as I sat down at the table, directly across from my aunt. Once everyone was in their seat, the servants raced forward to put plates of steaming hot eggs, bacon, sausage, and oatmeal in front of us.

Charles tried to start numerous conversations with me, which I pointedly ignored. As a result, Aunt Mary and Uncle Geoff declared that I was being rude and that I must answer when spoken to by Mr. Kirkland. This I also refused to do. It was terribly childish of me, but I was quite satisfied with my behavior during the entire meal. Both Charles and my family members grew increasingly frustrated, and once the dishes were cleared away and the servants gone, I braced myself for the full force of their anger.

"Clara, this is entirely uncalled for!" Uncle Geoff snapped as he glared at me from the head of the table. "You are a young lady of high standing and I expect you to act like it!"

I said nothing, merely sipped at the glass of milk I had in my hand. From the tension in the air, it was likely that everyone expected me to respond somehow, probably in a loud and angry manner. Instead, I kept quiet and contented myself with my drink.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, this is absurd," declared my aunt. "Very well, if you won't say anything, then I will. Clara, your father has replied to the message we sent out yesterday about Charles wanting to marry you and he approves of the match. As of today, you and Charles are engaged."

The cup slipped from my fingers and dropped to the polished wooden floor, shattering into a hundred shining pieces. For a moment, I stared at my empty hand, trying to fully understand what was happening. After my mind managed to absorb the fact that I was now engaged, I looked up to examine the faces of those around me. Charles was beaming like mad, and my aunt and uncle were unbelievably smug as they looked at me. I felt my eyes narrow in anger. How _dare_ they try to run my life and tell me who to spend my life with?

"No," I said, allowing a cold, hard air of resolve to develop around me.

For a moment, the three of them stared at me, wondering if I had actually spoken that word, wondering if I was actually being disobedient to an order from those above me.

"What do you mean '_no_'?" Charles blurted out, pale eyes bulging in their sockets.

"It means, _no, I will not marry you_," I declared, holding my head high as I glared at him.

"Yes, you will," Uncle Geoff snapped as he slammed a fist on the table. "As an unmarried woman, you must obey the head of your household, who, in this case, is your father. If he commands you to marry Mr. Kirkland, then you will do as you're told."

"I will _not_!" I yelled, standing from my seat.

"You have no choice," my aunt firmly replied, slowly rising from her seat, her body tense as a poised serpent. "The arrangements were made before breakfast. You and Charles will wed in three weeks, willing or not. If you do not, you will be disinherited and left a poor spinster!"

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my chair out of my way and stomped out the door, heading towards my room.

* * *

Deciding to enjoy his last day in Manistee, Erik chose to join the rest of the hotel guests for breakfast in the public dining room downstairs. True, his new mask and makeup would be an inconvenience, but it would be worth it; he would need his energy, as he planned to explore the town one final time before going to see Clara and helping her with carrying out the plan for tomorrow. 

Thankfully, not many people chose to have breakfast at the hotel, instead choosing to eat at one of the quaint cafés lining the town streets. Erik considered doing this as well, as the cafés offered seating outdoors so that diners could enjoy the sunshine and cool breezes coming off the lake. However, the thought of a quiet morning meal without people laughing, shouting and chatting around him (or, in the case of women, _flirting with him_) was quite irresistible to a private man such as himself.

The food offered by the hotel was quite good and plentiful, and he couldn't resist another breakfast pastry to go with his third cup of coffee. Once the last crumb was consumed and his cup was empty, a rather cheerful Erik Rousseau stepped onto the streets in search of a gift for his beloved Clara. It had been too long since he had presented her with a gesture of his affections, and he desperately wanted to surprise her with something when they left this country behind. But what could he give her?

'_Chocolates_?' he thought. '_No, that's a silly thought; she's not very fond of sweets…perhaps a book for her to read on the voyage_?_ That certainly has possibilities_…'

Suddenly, he passed by a small shop window filled with glittering gemstones…and paused…

* * *

I had the worst luck imaginable. A servant had caught me just as I was about to head up to my room and dragged me to the tea room, where I was forced inside, the door locked behind me. It was only after the footsteps faded that I noticed that Charles was in the room, his gaze focused on me. I growled as I turned back towards the door. 

"Let me out!" I cried, pounding the wood with my fists. "Let me out this instant!"

"Clara, please stop!" Charles cried as he grabbed my hands and hauled me towards the couch.

I was unceremoniously thrown down, trying to catch my breath so that I could yell at him some more. "This is your doing, isn't it?" I snapped, giving him a hard glare. "You want to make my life a living nightmare just because I won't marry you for your stupid money and family name!"

"They aren't stupid!" Charles yelled as he stood above me, fists clenching. "The union of our two families would put us amongst the greatest and most elite people in the country! Think of the friends we could make; you with your Southern charm and beauty, right beside me with my influence in the state government…"

"I don't want money and power, I want _love_!" I shouted, rising from my seat and pushing him aside to make my way back to the door.

"And I can give it to you!" Charles said with a touch of desperation in his voice. "I love you!"

A laugh escaped my lips as I turned to face him. "You don't love me, you love the idea of me," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "You love the fact that I'm a girl of the South with money and influence, but that's all. I want true love, love from a man who wants me for who I am, not what I represent to him and to others!"

I watched as Charles sighed and ran his thin fingers through his equally thin brown hair. It was quite sad to watch, as the poor man had no attractiveness whatsoever. Poor Charles was just pale and thin…and quite dull to be around. Perhaps there was a girl out there who would love him, but it certainly _wasn't_ going to be _me_! Erik already had my heart, and I know that I certainly had his.

"Clara, you should consider yourself fortunate that I have any feelings for you at all," my unwanted fiancée said, looking over at me. "Even in France people still marry for wealth and position. You should be happy that this hasn't truly been forced on us the way it is in other places."

"Oh, believe me, this is most _certainly_ being forced upon an unwilling bride!" I snapped, turning away from him.

"Clara, what could this man have that I don't? He's a man in a mask, for goodness sakes!"

I could feel my skirts whirling around me like a hurricane as I spun around. "Erik just so happens to be the most considerate, the most doting, and the most incredibly handsome musical _genius_ that I have ever met!" With each trait, I took one step forward, bringing myself right in front of Charles' face. "He treats me like a woman and a goddess at the same time, and makes me feel wanted, beautiful, and loved. He makes my heart soar even as it races within my chest." Now I was merely inches from his face. "And I would give my life for him if need be."

I heard the door unlock behind me and heard someone gasp. "Oh, good, you're making progress!" It was Aunt Mary.

"Actually, I was only giving Charles a verbal listing of the qualities that he _doesn't_ have," I said, turning around to face the doorway.

I happily watched as my aunt frowned. Instead of waiting for her to reply, though, I rudely pushed past her and went out the door, heading for my room.

* * *

For Erik, the day could not have gone better. He had purchased the perfect gift for his beloved and was now enjoying a cool glass of lemonade at a small eatery, softly fingering the small box in his pocket. Best of all, he was growing accustomed to the mask and makeup; now he would be able to go about in public without much discomfort until he and Clara were firmly settled into married life…wherever that may be. 

He had just taken another drink when he heard the girls sitting next to him whispering about an upcoming wedding. Though he tried to ignore them, Erik was soon glad that he hadn't. The names Charles Kirkland and Clara Savoy reached his ears, and before he knew it, the Phantom was making his way back to his hotel, a cold look of anger in his green eyes.

* * *

Later that night, I sighed heavily as Penny combed out my hair. I was so tired and drained that I was thankful for the attention my dear maid was giving me. After fleeing to the sanctuary of my room, I locked the door and prayed for help from Above. I felt that nothing would happen, but to my surprise, Penny knocked discreetly on my door, begging for entrance. Carefully, I let her slip into my room, along with a large basket over her arm. 

"Supplies for when we get holed up here for the day," she explained with a broad smile on her face.

I merely laughed and settled down to unpack the parcel. Inside were all sorts of cheeses, bread, a fine white wine, cold meats, and a few books and games to play while we attempted to "out-wait" my aunt and uncle. Although Aunt Mary came to my room several times, demanding I open the door, Penny and I had a fine time together. We ended up chatting, joking, and often complaining about the lack of intellect and compassion within my family (though especially with my father).

"You're right about loving Mr. Rousseau," Penny declared to my surprise. "You just seemed to light up while you were with him, and you kept that glow right up until your mama or papa ruined that for you." She shook her head. "It figures that, just when you find your other half and are perfectly in love, your family would try to tear you apart!"

The day finally faded into night, and I yawned as Penny helped me get ready for bed. She had brought her nightgown, which she now wore, and a spare dress with her so that she could serve me in the morning. I was alone in the room when I noticed the window open. Penny had just gone into the bathing room to tidy up after my bath, and I suddenly felt afraid. However, as a shadow detached itself from the tree, I could make out a pair of green eyes behind a black mask. I opened my mouth to acknowledge my fiancée, but he swiftly placed a forefinger before his lips.

**_Hush, Angel_**, Erik said as he made his way towards the bed, his voice only in my ears.

Watching him reach underneath it, I realized that he had come to fetch my suitcase for our elopement tomorrow! Keeping silent, I felt a smile pull at my lips as Erik lifted the travel case and made his way to the window, amazingly silent and graceful as a cat. I saw him blow me a loving kiss before vanishing into the night.

"You alright Miss Clara?" Penny's voice asked me from just inside the bathing room. "You look all up in the clouds, Miss!"

"I'm fine, Penny," I said in a quiet voice as I thought about tomorrow. "I'm just tired…it's been a long day, after all." My maid nodded before going back to her chores.

Meanwhile, I focused on how I was going to get out of the house tomorrow without being followed.

* * *

Smiling, Erik made his way back to his hotel, Clara's suitcase in his hand and a hopeful smile on his lips.

* * *

AN: The elopement is coming up soon! Please review and keep my Erik-muse happy! Thanks! 


	21. Unwanted Hindrance

Disclaimer: Erik and the real town of Manistee are not mine. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: This is it! The elopement plot begins to draw to a close! However, their official getaway is next chapter…thus the ending of _this_ chapter! (Laughs evilly) Enjoy and review!

**Chapter 21: Unwanted Hindrance**:

When I woke the next morning, I still had no idea how I was going to escape the house unescorted, especially after what had happened with Charles over the past few days. It would not take a genius to see that my aunt and uncle were highly unlikely to let me out of their sight today.

'_But I have to meet Erik_,' I thought, chewing my bottom lip. '_If I don't, he'll think I've abandoned him! I can't let that happen_!'

Perhaps Penny could smuggle me out of the house through the serving entrance? No, that part of the house was always busy, and someone would be bound to see me…it wouldn't work. I could pretend to be ill, but then Penny would be hovering over me the entire day, no matter how many times I dismissed her. There had to be a way to get into town to meet Erik, but I had yet to think of one as I rose from my bed and went to my closet to pick out a dress to wear. From behind me I heard someone in the bathing room, the sound of running water startling me.

"Penny!" I gasped, one of my hands reaching to clutch my chest in surprise.

I suddenly felt foolish as I remembered that my maid and I had spent the night in my room together after my fight with my aunt and uncle. How could I have forgotten that?

"Yes, Miss?" she said, emerging from the other room already fully dressed for her duties. "Did you need something before your bath?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I replied as I took a deep breath to calm myself. "You just startled me, that's all. You can go ahead and finish up getting my bath ready and I'll pick out a dress for today."

"Yes, Miss Clara." Penny gave a quick curtsey before heading back to her chores.

I bit back a groan of annoyance as I turned to pick out an outfit. I wanted something ordinary, something that wouldn't attract attention while Erik and I made our way through town and towards the docks. However, if I wore something too dull, my aunt would be suspicious. After combing through everything, I decided on a sea-green dress that I thought would be appropriate for today. The gown was of light material, with soft silvery lace at the sleeves and neckline which only added a sea-foam effect to the dress. It was quite lovely, and I was unusually excited to wear it.

Penny emerged from the bathroom and took the gown from me, spreading it on top of my bed as I went to bathe. As I splashed around in the warm water and washed my hair, I could hear Penny humming a song as she laid out my petticoats on my bed and my hair accessories on my vanity. Since I wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible, I rushed through my bath and dried quickly, slipping into my gown after Penny dried my hair to style it. After I was dressed, I patiently sat while my hair was arranged into a braid and pulled up into an elegant bun, to which a charming hat was added for when I went outside. When both of us were satisfied with the result, Penny and I braced ourselves for the worst as we went downstairs for breakfast.

Not surprisingly, my aunt and uncle were furious with me for my actions, so I ignored them in favor of the delicious oatmeal put in front of me. As I ate the warm cereal, I could feel the angry glares being directed at me, and was all-too-happy to keep my eyes elsewhere. My fingers managed to not quiver or shake in nervousness as I peeled an orange and a pear to follow the oatmeal, so well was I in control of my emotions. Not once did my aunt or uncle address me for conversation, and I was just getting ready to leave the uncomfortable silence when Aunt Mary broke it.

"Clara, you are expected to go walking through town with Charles Kirkland today," she announced, her voice not allowing for any argument.

"The two of you may expect that all you wish, but I have no intention of going anywhere with Mr. Kirkland," I stated, allowing a cool mask of indifference to settle on my face.

"You have no choice," Uncle Geoff declared, his blue eyes hard as stone as he glared at me from his space at the table. "The entire town knows that he is your fiancé, and that your family approves of the match. You are expected, not only by your aunt and myself, but by the entire of the town as well, to appear out in public together."

"Considering I refuse to marry him, there is no possible way I am going to appear anywhere with Mr. Kirkland."

"Then you will not leave this house unless you do so," snapped my uncle as he gestured for more coffee.

"What?" I cried. "You're going to imprison me here because I won't even consider marrying a man with the look of a pale wet dog?"

"That is enough!" roared Uncle Geoff as he rose from his chair. "You are going on a walk with Charles and that is final!"

I merely sneered at him as I rose as well, though I managed to (barely) keep my temper. "I'll go…but only to get away from controlling monsters such as you!"

With that, I stormed out of the room before another word could be said. If this was the only way for me to meet Erik, then so be it; we would just have to find a way to get rid of Charles before we made our escape.

* * *

"Be careful with those!" Erik snapped as he watched the hotel staff take his trunks down to the lobby. 

"Sorry, sir!" cried a young boy who looked barely old enough to work at the hotel.

"Just don't drop them," Erik replied as he turned to check and see if he'd forgotten anything.

The day had dawned bright and clear, giving the former Phantom hope for the day to come. He had readied everything the night previous, packing up his clothes and stacking Clara's suitcase along with his own. He had risen early that morning, pacing around the room and thinking of things to say to his beloved Clara when he met her later on in the day. True, the boat would not be leaving until late afternoon, but he was eager to see Clara at the bookshop, which was why Erik had tried to do everything to make time pass quicker; he had even taken a longer time choosing the ideal outfit, one consisting of a black top hat and boots, black pants, a gray coat with black lapels, and gray shirt and vest. Erik liked it, as it seemed to allude to the mystery of their secret elopement plot.

When it came time for him to check out of the hotel, Erik had summoned a dozen bellboys to help tow his belongings downstairs, from where they would be delivered to the **_Sea Princess_**, which was the vessel carrying him and Clara over the Lake to Canada. A quick touch to his pocket showed that the tickets were where they should be, and another touch to a different pocket proved that his special gift to Clara rested securely there for him to give her later.

'_Everything is as it should be_,' Erik thought to himself as he followed the last servant to the lobby.

He only hoped that nothing went wrong before the afternoon came.

* * *

I swear I was going to scream if I had to listen to Charles talk about his family's business for another minute. Thus far, the day had been dragging by, and it was all because I had to spend it with the man currently sitting across the table from me! 

'_I should have stayed holed up in my room until it was safe to sneak out_,' I thought as I closed out Charles' ramblings about wheat and how it had made his family rich.

Things had gone terribly wrong for me and my sanity ever since we left the house. After I had stalked out of the dining room, a servant had immediately led me towards the front door where Charles was (of course) waiting for me. I believe he thought my coming with him signified the wearing down of my resolve not to marry him, and he looked unusually smug as he escorted me out the door and into the bright summer sunshine.

From there, he led me to various nearby parks and had us walk the most secluded pathways. Charles thought that our walks through the parks were very romantic, and they would have been, if I'd had Erik by my side instead of Charles. Erik would have whispered sweet, romantic things to me in English and in French, holding my hand oh-so-gently in the crook of his arm as we slowly made our way along the flowered walkways. Charles, on the other hand, clutched my hand with his thin fingers and chattered loudly about how _wonderful_ our marriage would be with our two families joining, one of the North and one of the South. For some reason, Charles was fascinated by women of the South, and if I hadn't come to Manistee to visit my aunt, he probably would have found a way to go to the southern states to find a wife. As it was, I was the unlucky chosen bride.

Eventually, we managed to find a charming café near the center of town and on the river in which to have lunch and lemonade. Charles still chattered on and on as we waited for our food, and when it finally arrived, I was finally allowed peace and quiet as Charles managed to eat his meal without saying anything. Inwardly, I was extremely thankful that manners would not allow him to talk with his mouth full, and since we were both rather hungry, there was little pausing between swallowing one mouthful of food and putting the next one in our mouths.

Eventually, the meal ended and Charles began chatting once again as we left. I was beginning to feel the pressures of a headache coming on when I heard the bells of a nearby church toll the hour: it was just after two o'clock in the afternoon! I had to meet Erik at the bookshop, and soon!

'_But how am I going to get rid of Charles_?' I thought to myself as I managed to subtly steer us towards the street that held the store I was looking for. Well, I suppose that I would have to let Erik handle it; he was quite clever, and since Charles wouldn't know him or recognize Erik as the man I loved without his mask, it should be alright.

So, taking a deep breath, I headed to find my fiancé.

* * *

Erik had been in the shop for over an hour, and presently, he was trying not to loose his mind. He had come here at one o'clock, hoping to catch a glimpse of Clara before she entered the shop. Even though he had told her to meet him at no specific time in the afternoon, Erik had hoped to take her to a light afternoon meal and a pleasant walk before going to the ship. As he rapidly flipped through another Dickens novel, trying to look interested in it, Erik felt ready to hurt something. 

'_If she doesn't arrive here soon_…'

He refused to finish that thought. The waiting game was not something he was good at this close to the end of the event, and he desperately wanted to see his beloved. It felt as though it had been an eternity since he had truly held her in his arms, and he needed that now more than ever.

'_Especially with that weak-looking fop trying to take her from me_,' Erik thought, trying not to strangle the new, leather-bound book currently in his hands.

The bell over the doorway chimed to signal another customer entering the shop, and Erik fought against looking towards it; already he had looked over a dozen times, and if he kept it up, it would look suspiciously like he were here to meet someone instead of innocently looking for a book. Keeping hold of his temper, Erik took a deep breath.

"Clara, why are we here?" asked a male voice.

Erik's head whipped around before he could stop it. Clara was here? He risked a glance towards the door and saw that his angel was accompanied by the man who was trying to take her from him. Why were they here together? Had she, Heaven forbid, changed her mind about the other man? Had she come here to end their engagement and stop the elopement? Before Erik could fully panic, he saw the look of frustration that Clara had on her lovely face.

'_If anything, she's here with Charles Kirkland against her will_.' Erik couldn't help but grin at the thought. '_I suppose that I will have to save her, then_.'

Inwardly, Erik couldn't help but be happy that the store was empty, save for a young clerk in the storage room behind the counter; it would make it much easier without causing a scene.

* * *

We had only been in the bookshop a few moments and already Charles was whining about how boring it was. It was very clear that he was _not_ a man who appreciated a good book or tale, and it was clear that, if we were wed, I would have to be the clever one in the relationship. Apparently Charles couldn't tolerate books, unless they were business related, and so had really nothing wise or profound to say about anything except the wheat industry. It was all very dull, and I secretly longed for Erik to come and save me from quite possibly the dullest existence known to the world. 

I ignored Charles and decided to focus on the wall of books before me. Most were from the English novelists Jane Austen and Charles Dickens, both of which were highly recommended, according to the little notes attached to the wood, so I carefully skimmed the titles for something that sounded interesting (unlike the obnoxious Charles standing beside me).

"Pardon me," said a familiar deep voice to my right.

"Oh!" I gasped and turned around, coming nose-to-chest with a tall male figure. I quickly looked up into familiar green eyes in a flawless face I had previously seen only half of. '_Goodness, this is familiar_.'

"I beg your pardon, _mademoiselle_, but you will have to forgive me if I say that you are as enchanting as an angel from Heaven." Erik's marvelous voice surrounded me, effectively putting me into a trance so that I could not move even if I wanted to.

'_Which I don't_,' I thought as I stared up at the man I loved. Out loud, I said, "You are quite kind and flattering, sir."

"Ah, but I can assure you that I only speak the truth," Erik declared, smiling at me as he took my right hand in both of his own. "Especially to one so lovely as you."

I felt myself blush as he kissed my fingers. "I thank you, then," I replied in a soft voice.

Suddenly, another pair of hands reached out and snatched my hand away from Erik's. "What do you think you're doing?" demanded a voice behind me. It was Charles, and he did not sound very happy.

"I am merely trying to get to know the lovely lady before me," Erik replied, acting as though he had just met me, almost as though we were thrown back in time to Rockford to when we had first met.

"That 'lovely lady,' as you call her, is _my_ fiancée!" Charles declared, his cheeks turning red.

I almost laughed because Erik was at least four inches taller than Charles was, and was much broader of physique than the pale man standing next to me. However, I wisely kept my mouth shut and watched the scene play out; I want to see how Erik managed to handle this.

"Your fiancée, is she?" Erik asked, reaching for my left hand. As he took my hand in his own, he examined it with a fierce gaze. "She appears to lack a ring, and therefore seemed unattached to you and any other man."

"I have not yet had the chance to grace her fingers with a ring," Charles said, gritting his teeth together, his face turning redder by the moment.

"Then you must not truly care for her, if you have not yet made her yours by having her wear your ring," Erik smugly declared as he held my hand in his. "And if she is not yours, you would not mind my taking her for a walk along the river." He then held his arm out to me. "Shall we, Angel?"

That was all the excuse I needed to get out of here. "We shall," I replied, smiling up into his eyes as I slid my hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Clara!" Charles cried as he reached out and grabbed me, preventing me from leaving. "You cannot go with him! You're my future wife, and I demand that you not go!"

Angry, I pulled my arm free of him. "I have tried to be kind, and I have tried to be blunt," I said, glaring at him. "When will you realize that I don't love you and would rather be an old maid than marry a horrible fop such as yourself?"

Not letting him answer, I allowed Erik to escort me from the shop and into the light outside.

* * *

Charles felt his blood boil as he watched Clara leave with the Frenchman. She would not get away with this; he would not allow it! Huffing, he ran out the door to catch them.

* * *

AN: Officially, I think an elopement happens when they're safely gone, don't you? Review! 


	22. The Final Confrontation

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I do not own him. I don't own Manistee, either, since it's a real place; I am only using it b/c it's a great town I love very dearly.

AN: This story is almost over people! Someone asked if they could co-write a story with me, but I'm afraid I already have a writing partner (in another genre, but still, she'd feel bad if I got another one). So sorry, my friend, but one is all I can handle…trust me! (winks) Still, thanks for the offer, I appreciate it. Please review at the end of the chapter; it makes me and my muses happy. Thanks!

**Chapter 22: The Final Confrontation:**

I barely bit back a yelp as Erik pulled me in a darkened side alley, tucking us away in the shadows and away from the sight of anyone passing by. When I opened my lips to protest, his gloved hand covered them to prevent any sound from escaping, his other arm slipping around my waist to keep me from moving. I held my breath as Erik's tall, gray-and-black clad form effectively hid my own from view of the street, and was surprised to hear quick-moving footsteps on the sidewalk that were coming closer to where we were hidden…closer…closer…

The person who was obviously our pursuer ran past our hiding spot, not hesitating for one moment in his need to try and find us. Once the footsteps had faded, I was released from Erik's firm, but gentle, hold, sighing with relief. Erik himself pulled away to allow me to collect my self, smiling as I began to straighten my hair and smooth my skirts.

"Oh, goodness!" I exclaimed, still slightly flustered by what had just happened. "Well, I certainly didn't think that would happen!"

"I am sorry if it seemed I manhandled you, Angel," Erik apologized, one of his gloved hands rising to stroke my cheek. "But I needed to get you away from there quickly." He was silent a moment, watching me as I took a deep breath. "Why was he there with you, Clara?"

I could hear the suspicion in his voice and closed my eyes, sighing as my shoulders sagged forward. "My aunt caught me off guard," I said, opening my eyes to look into his own. "I came downstairs for breakfast and found Charles sitting at the table as though he belonged there. I tried to get away, but, unfortunately, I was given an ultimatum: spend the day with Charles, or don't leave the house at all."

Erik looked furious enough to strangle someone. "You were forced to bring him with you?" he said, his beautiful voice full of anger and disbelief. "How could your aunt and uncle do this to you?"

By now Erik had begun moving towards the street, glancing around the corners of the buildings to be sure that no one saw us emerge. When all was clear, he offered me a hand, which I gladly accepted, and the two of us stepped into the bright sunshine of the afternoon. I took his arm and his other hand came up to gently hold mine in the crook of his elbow as we began to walk down the sidewalk.

"I'm afraid that my father responded rather quickly to their telegram about Charles proposing," I said, sighing as we walked. "He, of course, has approved of the match and means for Charles and I to be married in a few weeks…my aunt has already announced our engagement to the local gossips, so it will likely be all over the town soon."

Beside me, Erik sighed, his left hand patting mine as I squeezed the inside of his arm. "It will be alright, my love," he said, drawing my attention from where it was focused on the walkway. "We will make our plan successful, you'll see."

I couldn't help but smile at him and let him lead me down the street. The day was perfect, being neither too hot nor too balmy, and there was a lovely breeze coming in off of the Lake and the river. Erik and I didn't speak for a while, merely enjoying one another's company and the pleasant weather that Nature was providing for us. I smiled as a pair of tiny birds landed in front of us and cheeped, apparently begging for food. I made little noises with my tongue, causing the birds stare at me a moment before chirping a reply and fluttering off. Beside me, Erik chuckled.

"I shall have to find you a pair of songbirds, if you so adore the creatures," he said, urging me back into our walk.

"Oh, I'd rather have a cat," I replied, smiling as I leaned closer to him. "But birds are nice, too, if only for their voices and the joy they seem to have."

Erik chuckled again, but said nothing. Instead, we stopped at store windows and looked in, occasionally going in for a brief glimpse of what the shopkeepers were offering inside. I purchased a few handkerchiefs for the voyage, and Erik purchased a few small books made to be taken on long journeys, saying that they were for us to amuse ourselves with until we arrived at our destination.

Time passed swiftly, and I realized that Erik and I hadn't had a full day together since Rockford. When I made this remark to him, Erik merely smiled at me and kissed my hand as he led me into a tiny café for something light to eat. We were seated promptly at a very small table in the corner, and had not long to wait before our server arrived with our order: two glasses of milk and a small plate covered with tiny pastries. I politely thanked our waiter and eagerly reached for a little custard tart, happily biting into it and relishing in the light mint flavor mixed into the creamy center.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Erik was watching me eat with an unusual expression on his face. I kept my confusion and amusement to myself as I delicately licked a tiny bit of cream off of my lower lip, my inconspicuous gaze not leaving Erik's obvious one. To my surprise, Erik was watching my lips as though they were the most fascinating thing in the world, his eyes going from a bright green to a deep emerald in a matter of seconds. I tried to hide my reaction to that, instead bringing a lemon cookie the size of my thumbnail up to my lips.

**_If you keep teasing me in this manner, my love, I will be forced to do something rash and scandalous right here in this café_**.

I tried to hide my giggles by taking a sip of milk from my glass. Erik's talents in ventriloquism never ceased to amaze and amuse me, and I dearly loved how he managed to talk to me just so I alone could hear his loving words. I let him know my appreciation by smiling at him with my eyes over the rim of my glass.

**_You are a devious flirt and vixen, my dear_**, he said, narrowing his eyes, which were darkening even further as I watched him.

This time I fluttered my eyelashes, much as a woman would do over the edge of her fan while flirting with a gentleman. Erik gave a low, frustrated growl and picked up a cookie, popping it into his mouth and chewing it in a rather irritated manner. I took pity on my poor love and set down my glass, sending him an apologetic smile and begging him for forgiveness with my eyes.

* * *

For a moment, Erik was lost in those huge brown orbs, the love they were sending him surrounding him and filling his heart. The pure need he had felt for her while she oh-so-seductively ate the pastries still raged within him, but with the pleading look she was currently giving him, along with her beautiful, soft smile, eased the hot fire that burned through his veins. Oh, the need and hunger he had felt were still there, but her gentleness was enough to make it into a deep, warm love. 

**_You are forgiven, my Angel_**, he said into her ears alone, using the talents that so amused her.

The pleased smile she gave him in return was blinding, the joy it held sending his heart straight to the heavens. Oh, Lord, what this woman could do to him with a single look! Distance truly _did_ make the heart grow fonder, and he had already been away from her for far too long. Oh, how he loved this woman!

Without thinking, Erik reached over and took her hand into his own.

* * *

He had forgiven me…and his hand was caressing mine, oh-so-lovingly… 

I sighed and savored the moment. It was inappropriate to behave in this manner in public, and if we were to be seen…

"Clara Savoy?" cried a pair of familiar voices.

I turned my head and bit back a groan. '_Oh, no, not the Carlson sisters_!' I thought in a panic.

The two girls were the biggest gossips in town. Brenda Carlson was the eldest at 17 years of age, and her younger sister, Natalie, could have easily been her twin, despite being just 15-years-old. Both girls were blonde as a field of wheat, had lovely hazel eyes, and not a true mind to share between them and their newly arrived baby sisters (who were already showing potential as being as silly as their elder siblings).

My polite 'society smile' slipped into place and I managed to calm my voice to the proper mannerisms. "Hello Miss Carlson…and Miss Natalie…"

"Now who is this here with you?" Natalie asked, eyeing Erik up and down with a sly, appreciative gaze. "Well, hello there, Mister…"

"Rousseau," Erik replied in the indifferent tone he wore when speaking to those he disliked.

"Well, Mr. Rousseau, I'm Natalie, and this is my sister, Brenda," Natalie said, happily introducing yourself. "You know, Mr. Rousseau, I do love your accent…where exactly are you from?"

"France," my fiancé replied, though I could clearly tell that he was becoming irritated just by listening to Natalie talk.

"Oh, I _love_ France! It's so _fashionable_!" Brenda squealed, fluttering her eyelashes in a flirtatious manner at Erik. "I mean, I have never been there, but I would love to hear about it! Would you join us for coffee and tell us all about your homeland and what brought you to America?"

"Yes, you shouldn't be seen with Miss Savoy, she's engaged to Charles Kirkland," Natalie said, glaring at me out of the corner of her eye. "Mr. Kirkland is quite the catch, you know, and she's _very_ lucky to have him as a fiancé!"

"Oh, I'm not engaged to Charles," I quickly replied. "That's just a silly rumor going around. My aunt so wishes for it to be true that she wants to frighten all the other girls off by spreading falsehoods."

"Oh, _really_?" Natalie said, cocking at eyebrow. "You and Mr. Kirkland seemed to be quite the happy couple not too long ago…did something change, then?"

I gave a polite shrug. "I have never had interest in Charles," I said calmly. "My Aunt wanted me to marry as quickly as possible while I was here, just to be able to plan a wedding before her own girls grow up and become engaged. It's much like a bit of practice for her, just so she knows what to do when my little cousins grow up and start being courted. Charles Kirkland is completely free to any girl who wants him." I turned and gave Erik a joyful smile. "I have found all I could possibly want and need in Mr. Rousseau here."

"Ohhh," was Natalie's reply. "Well, we'd better get going," she continued to say, tugging on her older sister's arm. "Good day, Miss Savoy!"

The two quickly vanished out the door and I was able to let out the breath I had probably been holding since the moment the two had appeared. Erik's hand grasped mine and I was able to breathe again.

"We need to go," I said, glaring at the doorway. "They will be spreading that tale around town in no time, and I know that my aunt and uncle will hear about it and come to stop me."

Erik nodded and the two of us quickly paid the bill and left, heading towards the docks.

* * *

Mary Pine angrily stalked into her husband's study, not stopping even to knock before entering. Besides, she already knew who was visiting her husband: a very upset and angry Charles Kirkland presently sat in a chair directly in front of Geoff's desk. Presently, the two of them stopped in the middle of their conversation as she marched right up to Geoff and crossed her arms. 

"The Carlson girls have just come over, telling me some sort of story about Clara having an afternoon meal with a Frenchman," she snapped, glaring at both men as though it were somehow their fault.

"Frenchman?" Geoff asked, puzzled. "Is it her former fiancé from Rockford?"

"Not unless he's been miraculously healed of his deformity," Charles said, frowning. "The man has a perfect face, no mask whatsoever; I saw his full face in the bookstore. It must be another Frenchman here on a holiday from Europe."

"Well, apparently Clara knows him from somewhere," Mary retorted, her hands now placed on her hips. "She told Brenda and Natalie Carlson that she was never interested in Charles and that he was free for any girl to take! And she also spoke of finding happiness with a 'Mr. Rousseau,' who was the French gentleman she was out with today!"

Charles had leapt from his chair upon hearing this. "I don't believe it!" he snapped, pacing the floor. "I will not loose her to some foreigner she's just met off the street!"

"If I'm right, Clara has obviously known this man from previous meetings," Geoff said thoughtfully. "It's possible that she had met him in town while exploring it alone and unaccompanied…"

"I knew I was too lenient on her!" Mary cried, throwing her hands in the air. "Her father warned me to keep an eye on her while she was here, and I failed in doing even that!"

"We haven't failed yet." Geoff moved from behind his desk and approached his wife, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Manistee is a small town; she may yet still be there. We could easily track her down, no matter where she is."

"Yes…" Mary said, taking a deep, calming breath. "Yes, we must do that…"

She then called for her servants to help her, her husband, and their guest get ready, not knowing their conversation and orders had been overheard by another party.

* * *

The ship was leaving not long after we arrived at the docks, so Erik and I stayed on the peaceful dock and watched our belongings be loaded onboard, the trunks and suitcases being automatically carried to our cabin while we waited. Erik frequently stroked my hand, and I shivered with joy at the feel of his skin pressed against mine. He had removed his gloves just so he could be able to touch me, and his gentle caresses made me feel loved and cherished as he leaned close to speak to me. 

"Only a few more minutes, beloved," Erik whispered into my ear as his left hand covered mine, which was tucked into the crook of his elbow once more. "Then we will soon be far away from here."

I sighed with joy and impatience, but said nothing. I merely watched them load the ship, a few passengers already beginning to board. Just as I was going to ask Erik if we, too, should start up the gangplank, I felt something cold slip onto my left finger. It was the engagement ring Erik had given to me when he had proposed in my parents' garden! The diamond under the gold rose design sparkled up at me in the sunlight, almost a mirror image of the shining joy I felt in my heart at that moment. I looked up into Erik's eyes, allowing a soft smile to grace my lips. Erik took a slow, deep breath before leaning forward, pressing his lips to mine in a deliciously gentle, loving kiss. I sighed, savoring the sensation that rushed through my body.

"Miss Clara!"

Our kiss broke instantly and Erik and I turned around quickly. Fear gripped my heart until I realized who it was calling my name.

"Penny?" I whispered as my maid approached me.

"Oh, Miss Clara, you need to run!" she said, gasping for breath. "I've been looking all over for you, and a man in town saw you walk here! You need to run before that aunt and uncle of yours find you! They've got that pale gentleman with them, too!"

"We must go, Angel," Erik said, nodding his thanks to Penny. He hesitated a moment. "What will happen to you, Penny, after they find out that you've helped us?"

"They'll punish her," I softly replied, worry clearly showing in my voice as I gripped his arm. "My aunt will tell my father, and he will dismiss her and probably her entire family from our plantation." My heart dropped at the thought of Penny and her family being forced to suffer because of me.

Erik frowned before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a small roll of money. "Penny, take this to that man over there," he ordered, looking my maid straight in the eye. "Ask to purchase one ticket to the voyage along with Erik and Clara Rousseau, saying that you are our newly hired maid." He held up a hand to stop any protests. "I have been assured that our quarters will be spacious, with an extra room for a servant. We didn't have need for it, but now we have no choice. Go!"

Penny did as he asked, going up the gangplank and approaching one of the ship's crewmembers. The man looked at her then at us, which caused Erik and I to nod our approval of the purchase. The crewman nodded back, then took the money before he beckoned for Penny to follow him. She was gone barely an instant before several familiar voices called out for me. I groaned and turned my head to bury my face in Erik's arm. He gently patted my hand as my aunt, uncle and Charles ran up to us.

"Clara Savoy, what do you think you are doing?" Aunt Mary cried out in a soft voice, trying not to draw attention from the boarding passengers.

My eyes narrowed in annoyance and anger. I'd had enough. "That is none of your concern," I declared, holding my head up high as I glared at my aunt and uncle.

"You are part of this family! Of course it is of our concern!" Uncle Geoff snapped, his face nearly turning red in anger.

Meanwhile, Aunt Mary was busy analyzing Erik. She took note of his allegedly 'perfect' face, his fine clothes, and, most importantly, the fact that there was a diamond ring currently on my left hand.

"Where did you get that?" she hissed, looking at the marvelous piece of jewelry. "You can't have known him long enough to marry him!"

"And yet you wish for me to wed Charles, whom I've known for far less time than Erik," I said, keeping my tone smug and sarcastic.

"Erik?" Aunt Mary gasped. "Erik Rousseau? The man your father disapproved of?"

Uncle Geoff and Charles (who had been amazingly quiet) turned to stare at her, but it was my uncle who spoke. "I thought he wore a mask? This man looks perfectly normal!"

"Appearances can be deceiving," Erik replied, his voice cold as he addressed the others.

At that moment, the horn on the boat announced the last boarding call. Erik clasped my hand in the crook of his elbow once again and straightened to his full height, which was well over six-feet.

"Come, my dear, it is time to go," my beloved said to me, directing us towards the gangplank.

"She's not going anywhere," Charles snapped, he and my family blocking our way to the ship. "She is _my_ fiancé, not yours! Release her at once!"

"That is enough!" I said, turning to face the three people blocking my way. "I've had enough of being talked down to, ordered about, and completely taken advantage of by the three of you!" I put my right hand on Erik's shoulder. "_This_ is the man I love, _this_ is the man I am going to marry, and _I don't care_ what you or anyone else thinks about me, about our love, or about him! For once, I am going to do what **I** want, and I'm not going to let some selfish, greedy, power-hungry monsters like you ruin my life!" By now I was fully angry, glaring at them with all of the hatred I had in me. "Now get out of my way before I do something drastic!"

Without waiting for a response, I pushed past them, hauling Erik behind me until we were safely on the boat.

* * *

Never before had he seen his Angel look that angry. The change in her had been both disturbing and incredibly beautiful, transforming her into a warrior goddess amongst women. When she had pulled him behind her onto the boat, Erik had to take a deep breath to be sure he was still awake and not dreaming or imagining the whole thing. Presently, he was just happy that, while Clara had been dragging him towards the ship, he had reached into his pocket and presented the waiting crewman with the two tickets he had purchased, smiling broadly as he did so. 

From their place on the deck, Erik could hear Mr. and Mrs. Pine, along with Charles, arguing in an attempt to get onto the ship, claiming it was urgent that they do so. This made him extremely glad for the tight security on not allowing just anyone to board the vessel. He could just imagine how they must be forcefully dragging the Pine's and Charles Kirkland away down the docks, possibly even by policemen; it was an incredibly amusing picture.

A loud whistle pierced the air, and Erik felt the boat jerk underneath his feet. He managed to regain his balance quickly, just in time to help Clara. She smiled at him in gratitude as she clung to his arm, exactly like she had on the docks. A feeling a love and joy filled Erik's heart as he began to lead her to the railing on the far side of the ship, away from the docks so that she could see the water as they floated out to Lake Michigan. Overhead, seagulls cried out in their shrill voices, and below them, the engines of the ship roared to life as they began to rapidly move forward.

Beside him, Clara sighed. "I thought this would never happen," she whispered for his ears only. "I thought that I would never be this happy or free, either."

Smiling, Erik pulled his arm free, moving behind the woman he loved and wrapping her in his arms, her back pressed tightly against his chest. "I would have made this happen even if the gods themselves forbid it," he whispered back as the air off the water blew against their faces.

Something heavy in his coat pocket tugged at his attention, causing him to reluctantly pull his right hand free and reach into his coat. Looking at the red velvet box, Erik smiled.

"Clara?" She turned around to face him. "I have a gift for you."

A delighted smile graced her face, brilliantly lighting her up so that it appeared she glowed. "Oh, Erik, you didn't have to give me anything!" she exclaimed, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. "You've done so much for me already, it just doesn't seem…"

Erik merely gave her an affectionate smile as he interrupted her. "I have not had the chance to present you with a true gift for some time. Do not deny me this, beloved…please…"

She nodded as he pressed the little box into her hands, watching carefully as she flipped it open.

* * *

I opened the red velvet box to reveal a glittering, oval-shaped gold locket. In the center was a white pearl, surrounded by flowering designs in three types of gold: white, red, and a deep, dark gold I had never seen before. It was beautiful, but as I made to put it on, Erik's hands reached out to stop me. 

"Open it," he whispered.

I did so, revealing the inscription.

_**To Clara: The Woman with the Heart of an Angel**_

I smiled, feeling tears prick my eyes as Erik hung the precious locket around my neck. I then thanked him with the thing I knew he wanted most…a kiss of love.

* * *

AN: Aw, wasn't that lovely? A few more chapters (three _at most_), and it's over! Review! 


	23. A Time for Joy

Disclaimer: Erik and the real town of Manistee are not mine. Only original creations belong to me.

AN: Hi! This is the last chapter everyone! Well, before the epilogue, I mean. I could go on for a while longer, but my muse is telling me to wrap this up and get on with it. Sadly, there will be no sequel: I just don't have it in me to keep going for more. Well, maybe a one-shot, but that's not likely. However, if anyone has an idea for another story for me to write, I'll consider it. Please send all ideas via a private message or via e-mail. Or, if you don't have an account, send it in a review (please include your e-mail address in the "E-MAIL" line). Thanks, and as always, please review (winks)!

**Chapter 23: A Time for Joy**:

Emerging from the bathing room, Erik glanced around the room, searching for his love. "Clara?" he called, moving from the bedroom to the small living room.

"In the study!" she replied, her voice soft and distant.

Moving quickly, Erik strolled through the hotel rooms and slipped up behind her back, silent as the Ghost he had formerly been. He could tell she was in the middle of writing something, so he did nothing to alarm her or disturb her work. Instead, he quietly watched as her pen scribbled a letter on the pure white parchment before her. After a moment, though, he could no longer take the silence and waited for her to move to dip her pen into the inkwell, coughing politely to gain her attention.

"Oh!" She quickly turned around, her hand dropping the pen into the ink in surprise. "Erik, for goodness sakes, you startled me!"

"Forgive me, Angel," he replied, green eyes twinkling in amusement as her lips twisted into a chiding frown. "I merely became worried when I could not locate you in the other rooms." Erik took a closer look at the paper on the desk. "Whom are you writing to?"

"Haleigh and Jerry," was Clara's reply as she turned back towards her work. "I've been terrible about writing to them. Why, I haven't written to them since…oh, goodness, since before you arrived in Manistee!"

Erik quirked an eyebrow. "That long?" he asked. "Then you have a great deal to tell them about." Giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head, he quietly padded out the door to dress for dinner.

* * *

'_Well, my letter to Haleigh is certainly going to take up quite a few pages_,' I thought to myself as Erik left me to write in peace. 

First, of course, I would have to mention that disastrous episode with Aunt Mary, Uncle Geoff, and Charles. Haleigh would certainly want to know why I hadn't contacted her for help. But then, what could she have done from so far away? And even telegraph messages took time to be sent, to arrive at their destination, and to be decoded so that they could be read by the intending party. By the time she received the message, thought of a way to help, and replied, it would have been far too late.

'_She'll forgive me_,' I thought with a smile as I continued to write. '_She always does, and especially will after hearing about the wedding_!' I smiled as I thought back to my wedding day.

Needless to say, after the scene on the docks, Erik had been frightened out of his wits that my aunt and uncle would find us. So, right in the middle of the three-day voyage, my incredibly eager fiancé had decided to convince the captain of the _Sea Princess_ into marrying us onboard the ship. The darling man, who was a jolly old soul named Captain Reynolds, had been delighted at the idea; he'd only performed a handful of wedding ceremonies in his career as captain, and was eager to do it again before he retired in a year or two. However, I had almost panicked, since I didn't have a wedding gown or anything elegant to wear in its place.

Thankfully there was a motherly old woman onboard, traveling to move in with her son in Canada. Mrs. Ruth Deleon had brought along all of her worldly possessions with her in her trunks, one of which happened to include the wedding dress she had worn many years ago. Ruth had hoped that a potential bride for her son would wear it, but she was more than happy to loan it to me for the event, as long as she was invited to watch and be a witness at the ceremony.

I had been incredibly nervous in the hours leading up to the wedding, but Penny managed to keep me calm as she tightened the laces on the silk gown that adorned my figure. It was an underskirt of soft silk covered entirely by a delicate lace overskirt that shimmered with silver thread and tiny seed pearls. I felt like a princess as Penny managed to comb my hair out and set the sheer lace veil onto my head, the length of the material just enough to cover my unbound locks. Once I was dressed, I picked up the bouquet of white roses and lilies which the ship's housekeeper had put together for me and headed towards the chapel.

My breathing had nearly stopped when the doors opened, the ship's first mate escorting me down the aisle to Erik's side. My dear Erik was dressed completely in black, even wearing a black mask over the top half of his face; his explanation to our witnesses for wearing it was that the mask was a private joke between us, and that he wanted to wear it to make me happy. However, I knew that he wore it because I loved him for who he was _with_ the mask; I don't think either one of us could have borne it if he'd had a 'perfect' face when we wed…it would have been wrong to start our new lives as man and wife with a lie such as that.

The ceremony was short and sweet. Captain Reynolds had been beaming as much as Erik was during the whole thing, and I think he hurried through the vows just to get us to our marriage bed faster. It makes me blush to think of it still, but I think that's what happened. In the end, though, Erik and I kissed as man and wife while Penny burst into tears behind me, exclaiming about the adorable little babies that were bound to be born in the future. Erik had merely grinned and winked at me before scooping me up and carrying me back to our new cabin, which we were now free to share.

I sighed and looked down at my letter. '_What am I forgetting_?' I thought, chewing my lower lip. '_Oh, yes, of course_!'

Haleigh would never forgive me if I didn't mention the romantic things Erik and I did together. The meals were always wonderful, the two of us together as we ate alone in our cabin, feeding each other things as we giggled back and forth. Penny was thrilled to see us so much in love and so happy together; she practically skipped when she served us our food, and when Erik and I went out for a walk to watch the sun rise and set, Penny nearly collapsed in giggles when she saw us holding hands.

Now it was my turn to giggle. '_Oh, goodness, I'm acting like a silly goose_!'

"And what is my darling wife so _deliriously_ happy about?" purred a voice from behind me, a pair of strong, male hands grasping my shoulders to gently rub them.

I gave a happy sigh as Erik pressed a soft kiss to my right temple. "Oh, just thinking about how much like a fool in love I've been acting," I replied in a playful tone as I turned to look up at him.

He chuckled. "Then the two of us are both fools in love," he whispered, bending down to press a loving kiss upon my lips.

We were so lost in the sweetness of the kiss that it took my pen hitting the ground to bring me back to earth. I hesitantly pulled back, not wanting the moment to end, but knowing that I needed to finish my letter soon, before we left for the East Coast. Erik smirked at me as he turned to leave the room.

"Finish quickly, Angel, or we will be late for dinner and the theater!" he called.

I sighed as I picked up my pen before turning back to the task at hand.

* * *

Sitting in her home in Rockford, Haleigh Winters ripped open a letter addressed to her with odd postage stamps on it. 

'_Who do I know in Canada_?' she wondered as she broke the seal.

The handwriting was enough to tell.

"Jerry!" Haleigh's scream was enough to bring her husband running.

"Darling, what is it?" he asked, puffing from his run from the front yard and into the parlor.

"It's a letter from Clara!" she cried, waving it at him.

Jerry merely gaped as he walked over to his wife's side. "Well, what does it say?"

Haleigh quickly skimmed through the first few paragraphs. "Oh, the clever little thing, she married Erik while they were escaping from her aunt and uncle…and by the skin of their teeth, too!"

"You mean they almost got caught?" Jerry asked, reading the letter over her shoulder.

"Yes, that horrible Charles Kirkland nearly had her, but luckily Erik's a quick thinker…and so is Clara!" She continued to skim through the note. "Oh, and she says that she'll try and write to her parents about the marriage…from the safe distance of the European continent!"

Her husband laughed. "Well, that _might_ be enough distance to not hear the screams coming from the Savoy plantation!"

"I wouldn't bet on it," Haleigh replied, folding up the note and putting it back into the envelope it came in. "I do hope that she manages to get me something nice while she's over there in Europe…I'd love some French or Italian lace for my outfits…or for the children…"

Jerry sighed as his wife began to list off things she wished she had from the fashion capitols Europe.

* * *

From the tiny window in our cabin, I watched as the only countries I've ever known faded into the distance, the ship speeding along, bringing us ever-closer to our destination. 

"Erik, how long will we stay in Europe?" I asked dreamily as my husband wrapped his arms around me.

"At least four months," he mumbled as he buried his face in my hair. "I want to be sure that you see everything you desire."

"I've always wanted to see Ireland and Scotland," I whispered, not wanting to ruin this precious moment by speaking too loudly.

"Why?" Erik began to move his face from my hair towards where my head, neck, and shoulders met.

"Because…" I bit my lip as his lips found a sensitive spot on my shoulders.

"Yes?" he whispered as he nuzzled my skin.

"Because…my family emigrated from there…" I sighed as his arms held me tighter against him. "I've always wanted to see those great islands…"

"Of course, my dear," Erik's soft voice replied as he continued his assault on my neck. "Anything you like."

"Anything?" I asked in a breathy, teasing voice.

Erik chuckled. "Most assuredly," he answered, sweeping me up and carrying me to our bed.

* * *

In the parlor of their plantation, Richard and Camilla Savoy glared at the unopened envelope sitting on the small coffee table. It was a letter from their daughter, bearing several stamps from foreign countries that both her parents would likely never see, and was easily a couple months old, having taken its time arriving at its destination. Presently, both the older Savoy's were torn between opening the envelope or letting it merely sit there and gather dust. 

"Oh, would you two just _open_ the darn thing?" snapped a voice from the doorway. Both adults turned to the voice. There stood their son, frowning at them in disapproval. "Clara went through all that trouble to write you and all you can do is sit there and simmer in anger when all she wants to do is tell you that she loves and forgives you despite all you've done to her!"

"And how would you know?" his mother snapped, glaring at her son for a moment before softening her gaze. He _was_ her favorite, after all.

"Because she sent me a letter, too," was Philip's surprising reply. He sighed. "Would you just read it? I'm off to a party in town, so don't wait up for me." He left, not waiting for a response.

Both of his parents turned and looked at the note. Camilla reached out a hesitant hand, but pulled back, as though afraid the paper would burn her. Robert gave a heavy sigh and picked up the envelope, carefully tearing it open and pulling out the single sheet of paper with Clara's neat cursive.

_Dearest Mama and Papa_,

_Knowing how you both probably feel about me marrying Erik, I can almost picture the two of you staring at this letter as it lay on the table between you. This is why I also wrote to dear Philip, knowing that he could easily convey the sum of this letter to you verbally, if only to get you to open this and read it for yourselves._

_I sit here now, writing you about how I forgive and love you despite what you and Aunt Mary and Uncle Geoff have done to me over those last few months I spent at home and up north. You only wanted what was best for me, and for me to be happy. Well, I am most certainly happy now with Erik, who has provided me with every bit of love, tenderness, comfort, and joy I could ever want. Despite all of the hardships we have faced, we are very much in love. We show it in every kiss, caress, and look we give one another; I give him all of my heart, for I know I already have his. Neither of us could ask for anything more than that._

_Papa, I know you doubted Erik's wealth, but know this: we've easily traveled throughout the European continent and still have more than enough money to buy the entire town of Rockford, with plenty left over. Erik is an incredibly wealthy man, as well as a good one, and I am sorry that you could not look beyond his imperfect face and his apparently empty pocketbook to see the great man and genius that he truly is. However, I have not written to chide or lecture you. Instead, I have important news._

_I am with child._

_I am sorry that I could not tell you this in person, but I cannot help but feel that you have not yet forgiven me for my actions; therefore, I will not return to see you until I am sure of your feelings towards my marriage to Erik and to our unborn child. You may send any and all messages through Mrs. Winters; she has a list of the addresses where we will be staying during our long trip. There is nothing I want more than for you to see your grandchild before it is fully grown to adulthood._

_I hope to hear from you soon._

_Love,_

_Clara (Rousseau)_

Both her parents stared at one another, speechless. Their daughter was going to have a baby!

"You know what we have to do, don't you?" Camilla said, reaching over to grasp her husband's hand.

He sighed. "Yes. Yes, I do." Richard looked into his wife's beautiful black eyes. "I'll contact Mrs. Winters."

* * *

"Erik, could you please fetch me the jar of marinated mozzarella balls?" I asked, pouting up at my husband. "Oh, and a plate of tomato slices and basil leaves? I want to make myself a snack." 

"For goodness sakes, Clara, let Penny make it!" my husband replied from his place at his piano.

"But it won't be like how **I** like to make it," I whined, somehow managing to get up from the couch I had been laying on. "Oh, gods, I feel like a whale!" At that moment, the baby kicked me. "A whale with a small horse kicking me from the inside," I groaned, rubbing my belly as I fondly gazed down at the huge bump.

"It's only another two or three weeks, my love," Erik replied as he walked over from where he had been composing his latest piece of music.

I looked up to find him smiling at me as he sat down beside me. He had been composing during his free time during our travels, and had tried to sell a few of them, if only to "test the market" and see the results. So far, the Italians loved _everything_ that Erik managed to throw at them, and so, during our third month in Europe and my second month of pregnancy, we had decided to stay in the boot-shaped country until our baby was born…or until the Italians grew tired of us…whichever came first. Presently, it looked as though our baby was going to be an official Italian citizen.

"Has he been kicking you dreadfully, Angel?" my husband asked, gently caressing my belly.

"Erik, for the last time, we don't know if it is a boy or a girl," I huffed playfully, placing my hand on top of his.

The two of us spent another moment like that, enjoying the moment before an odd sensation pricked inside my stomach. I instantly sat up and looked over at Erik, who looked at me in confusion until I said five words.

"Erik, I think it's time!"

* * *

From his post beside the cradle, Erik Rousseau made cooing noises to the tiny infant within as he gently rocked her back and forth, trying to get the little one to sleep. 

"I think she's asleep enough, Erik," Clara whispered from their bed, her head leaning on her right hand as she watched him.

"And how would you know?" he replied, smiling as continued to rock his tiny daughter back and forth.

"Because you've been doing that for over an hour," she said with a soft giggle. "Come to bed."

Erik couldn't hold back a disappointed sigh; he could do this all night, and had actually been doing so during little Bianca's first week of life. However, Clara was right; it was time for sleep, otherwise he would be useless in the morning. The last thing he needed to do was fall sleep at the table or while working on another composition! Erik bit back a groan as he got up, the cradle still slightly rocking as he silently crept over to the left side of the bed, the side furthest away from his child; Clara needed to be closer, should Bianca need to nurse during the night.

"You must sleep as well, my love," he whispered as he slid underneath the sheets, his hands reaching for his wife. "You are the one mostly awake at night to feed our little cherub."

A quiet laugh escaped her lips. "Yes, but I also get to nap during the day," she said, snuggling closer to his chest, the better to hear his heart beat. "Not to mention that I've also had well over six weeks to adjust to all this nocturnal up-and-down business, ever since she was born."

Now it was Erik's turn to laugh. "Too true, my dear," he admitted, twining his fingers in her luscious brown hair as his other hand rubbed her back; it still ached occasionally, especially after all those hours of carrying Bianca back and forth during the day.

'_Honestly, the little thing just doesn't want to be put down sometimes_!' he thought with a smile.

Taking a deep breath, Erik savored this perfect moment. He had everything he could ever desire in life. Not only did he have a wife, but now he had a perfect little baby daughter who smiled whenever she saw her papa's imperfect face hovering over her cradle. His music was selling quite well, and if he had his way, they would never leave Italy, nor their large villa by the sea. Life was perfect.

'_Well, at least until tomorrow…then we'll see where life takes us after her parents and brother visit_.'

Letting his mind drift, Erik fell asleep to the sounds of his wife and child breathing peacefully nearby.

* * *

AN: One more chapter until the end! Please review! 


	24. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I tried to kidnap the Phantom, but failed. Therefore, I do not own him. I don't own Manistee, either, since it's a real place; I am only using it b/c it's a great town I love very dearly.

AN: This is it, the end of the story! Sorry, there will be no sequel to this fic. For more amusement written by me, please check my bio page to see what I've added. Thanks for all of your love and support, you people rock my world!

**Epilogue: When Everything Comes Together**:

I was extremely tense as I held little Bianca in my arms, pacing back and forth in the main hallway of the villa. My parents would soon be arriving from America to visit, and they were bringing my brother Philip along, most likely to act as mediator between the two families. I felt terrible about that being put on my poor little brother's shoulders, but he was a bright boy and could take it all in stride.

"Clara, you're starting to aggravate Bianca," Erik said, emerging from the music room. "You're even beginning to aggravate _me_, and I was in the next room!"

I turned and glared at him. "And how would you know if I'm annoying her?" I asked, clutching my baby girl even closer to me as I paced some more.

"Because I can hear her snuffling and whining from the music room," was my husband's calm reply.

My steps faltered as I stopped walking, my gaze going down to look at my daughter currently lying in my arms. Her green eyes stared up at me, and her lips were turned down into a pout as she began to wave her tiny fists in the air. I knew that she was going to start crying if I didn't calm down, so I began to gently coo to her in a soothing voice, saying all sorts of nonsense and affectionate gibberish as I rocked her and patted her back. Bianca's reaction at my attempts to calm her was what I expected: her frightened or disturbed cries faded, and she quickly became the bright and happy baby that she normally was.

'_Well, she's happy until she's hungry or I need to put her down for a nap_,' I thought, barely keeping myself from rolling my eyes. '_Honestly, the moment I set her down, she wants to be picked back up_!'

"I know that look," Erik teasingly said as he came up beside me, his head resting on my right shoulder as his arms slipped around my waist. "It's the one you used whenever I spent too much time coddling you while you were with child."

I laughed, which in turn caused Bianca to giggle and wave her hands even harder; for some reason, every time someone else laughed, Bianca needed to laugh, too. I looked down at the tiny head lying comfortably in the crook of my left elbow. "You're a silly little girl, aren't you?" I cooed to her. "And spoiled, too, since your daddy doesn't like putting you down any more than you like it."

Erik chuckled as he lifted his right hand, his fingers going to caress our daughter's cheek. "I have every right to spoil our little cherub," he declared, letting his forefinger move to caress Bianca's thick lock of dark hair. "It's a father's right to spoil his daughter."

"Just as long as you don't spoil her rotten," I chided him in a teasing voice. "I refuse to be the horrible, evilly firm parent of the house!"

My husband let out a burst of laughter. "No fear of that, my love," he replied as he moved to hug me closer to him. His green eyes drifted down to the sleepy form lying in my arms. "Although, I do have a feeling you will keep us both in our place, no matter what."

We both shared a quiet bit of laughter as Erik escorted me to the parlor tucked into the back of the house, which had a wooden cradle in the center of the room between the couches. Besides what would eventually be Bianca's future playroom upstairs, this was our favorite room in the entire villa. It was a tremendously large room, easily having enough space for the piano, the cradle, the traditional tables and chairs, and the mountains of toys that were strewn all over. Most of the toys were given to Bianca by a dozen or so family friends, as well as admirers of Erik's musical works. It was fairly messy, but this was a room that only we Rousseau's would enter, so it did not matter. I lay my baby girl in her cradle and began to gently rock it back and forth with my foot while I picked up a book to read.

"She will be quite the beauty when she grows up," I whispered happily as I turned my eyes to check on Bianca.

"Oh, no doubt about that," Erik said as he took a seat at the piano, his fingers playing a soft tune to help us relax. "With your beauty, she will be a famed beauty known across Italy before she can walk!"

I gave a soft chuckle. "You forget that she has _your_ eyes, dear husband," I teased. "I have a feeling that she will be incredibly bright, since she seems to share your love of all things musical." I couldn't hold back a mischievous grin. "In fact, I can easily see all of the eligible young men in Italy lining up at our door after I introduce her to society."

Erik tried to glare at me over the edge of the composition book he held in front of him. "And I have every intention of interrogating each and every one of them, too," he said. "I will not have my daughter marry an Italian fop!"

Though I was halfway across the room from him, I knew he could hear me chuckle at him as he began to play the piano. Soon, the three of us happily settled into the soft, beautiful moment that was filled with family and happiness, knowing that we had both found what we were searching for in life.

* * *

"Miss Clara, you'd better hurry!" Penny exclaimed as she rushed into the kitchen. "They're coming!" 

Bianca began to fuss in her chair, clearly unhappy that her beloved feeding time was being interrupted. I sighed and scooped up another spoonful of food for her; today was an experiment of Erik's creation, a mixture of a creamy tomato sauce and porridge that was soft enough for Bianca to eat, yet still rich enough to help her grow. She seemed to like it a great deal, and was now more than halfway through the bowl, with most of it actually in her stomach as opposed to it being on the floor.

"Alright, sweetness, let's finish up your din-din and go meet Grandma and Grandpa, what do you say?" I asked as I put the loaded spoon to her mouth.

She merely grinned at me as she accepted the food and swallowed it down without complaint. I dug another bit from the bowl and offered it to her; instead, Bianca's head turned away as she tried to gaze out the window at a bird fluttering through the yard. I sighed and motioned for Penny to pick her up, signaling that mealtime was over. Penny nodded and scooped her up before heading upstairs to dress and prepare Bianca for her introduction to her grandparents.

I took off the apron I was wearing and began heading towards the front door. It had probably been a bad idea to wear a fine silk gown while feeding the baby, but we didn't know what time my parents and brother would be arriving, so I had dressed early and put an apron on for protection against any thrown food. Now that my daughter was no longer providing a distraction from my nervousness, I felt my hands go to the dark blue silk of my gown, smoothing out the ruffles and lace that trimmed it as I made my way to the main hall. Erik was already there, trying to do his cravat.

A small snicker of amusement escaped my lips as I slid up in front of him. He merely snorted and allowed me to help straighten him out. Once that was done, Erik wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close to him, neither one of us saying a word as we comforted one another. I sighed, savoring the moment as the sound of a carriage coming up the driveway caught our ears. We both took a deep breath and separated, focusing our eyes on the front door as our butler, Roberto, opened it.

* * *

Erik slid an arm around his wife's waist as the carriage door opened and her brother leaped out. Once he caught sight of his sister, Philip raced up the marble steps and threw his arms around Clara, Erik having to duck out of the way to save himself from a concussion. Tearing his eyes away from the happily embracing siblings, Erik turned towards the two Savoy's he was least looking forward to seeing: Richard and Camilla, his in-laws. Taking a deep breath, Erik moved down the steps to greet them. 

"Welcome to our home," he said with a polite bow. "Would you mind following us inside for something to eat and drink?"

Erik watched as both of the elder Savoy's nodded, their eyes not moving from the incredibly large Italian villa before them. It was two levels, and a partial third for a sort of attic or private room, should they wish it. The second floor held the bedrooms and the large playroom that was for when Bianca and any future siblings of hers grew older; the lower level held the dining rooms, kitchen, the private family parlor, the public parlor, a music room, and a vast library. It was at least twice the size of the Savoy plantation, and they clearly knew it. Erik couldn't hold back a smirk at that idea as his wife came up to slip her arm through his.

"Mama, Papa, please come inside," Clara requested in a soft, polite, and clearly formal voice. "There will be food and drinks waiting in the parlor, and you can take a small rest there while we wait for Penny to bring down Bianca."

"Bianca?" her mother said, obviously unfamiliar with the name.

"It's Italian," Erik replied as he put a hand over his wife's, which lay in the crook of his elbow. "Since we live in Italy and she was born here, we decided to give her an Italian name."

"It's a good one," Philip said, casting a glare at his parents, who, amazingly, looked away.

"Shall we go inside?" Clara said, waving for their guests to follow.

As he led them all into the house, Erik held his head high, proud of his new home and family as he led his one-time foes into the parlor.

* * *

Tea was amazingly quiet after we settled in with our refreshments. Mama and Papa sent occasional glares towards me while sipping their tea, but Philip chattered away on what had happened to him while I had been gone. He had met a lovely girl and they were actively courting, causing me to believe that I would soon have a sister-in-law by next year. 

When Philip was done talking, I told him (and indirectly, my parents) what I had seen and been to during our travels. I told of the temples of Athena and Apollo in Greece, of seeing the Vatican in Rome, and the astounding artwork adorning numerous museums and palaces in Italy. I saw my brother's eyes widen with each description, his eyes darting to the murals and paintings covering the walls of the villa. I told him that most of the works on our walls were from the home's original owners, but the rest were pieces that Erik had put together. One of Erik's pride and joys was a family portrait presently hanging in his music room right next to his piano, which he hoped to add more to once our family expanded.

"I didn't know he could paint until he saw some open spaces along the walls and decided to paint a few portraits," I said with a light chuckle, causing Philip to burst into laughter.

A knock sounded at the door and Penny's voice called through the wood. "Mr. and Mrs. Rousseau?"

"Come in, Penny," I said, both Erik and I eagerly setting aside our cups and rising to greet her.

My maid, presently nursemaid to Bianca, entered the room with a carefully wrapped bundle in her arms. I couldn't hold back a proud smile as she handed me my little girl, Bianca letting out a small giggle of joy at seeing me again. Praying that she would be accepted by her grandparents, I brought her over to the couch which held my mother and father.

"Mama, Papa, here is your granddaughter, Bianca Angelica Rousseau" I said in a soft voice, gently holding her so that they could see her.

The two of them rose from their chairs after setting aside their cups, their hands visibly shaking as they leaned forward over the squirming bundle in my arms. It was quiet for a few moments as Philip, Erik and I waited for my parents to say something…anything at all…

"She is the little beauty," Papa finally said, a tiny, but proud, smile pulling at his lips. "She's got the greenest eyes I ever did see!"

"And her skin is so pale, like snow!" Mama gasped with joy as Bianca smiled up at her and crowed. "Oh, aren't you the little darling?" she cooed, stroking my baby's small hands with a finger.

Happy with all of the attention she was getting, my daughter began happily waving her arms and feet around as three new people cooed all sorts of nonsense and praise to her. Meanwhile, Erik and I stood beside one another, my husband's arm tightly wound around my waist as he silently offered love and support. Out of the corner of my eye, I could clearly see a pleased smile pulling at his lips.

* * *

With evening drifting in, Philip Savoy watched as his father told Bianca bedtime stories and Mother helped Clara make sew more baby clothes. In the hours that had passed since their reunion, he had witnessed his family unite in a form of togetherness that he hadn't seen since Clara's last night in Rockford. Both he and Clara had expected, at best, a large and dramatic verbal fight; however, after seeing little Bianca smile up at them with her bright eyes and contagious giggles, both of the older Savoy's had lost their hearts to their little granddaughter. There would be a great deal of spoiling when it came to buying gifts for little Bianca and her future brothers and sisters. 

'_Which is as it should be_,' Philip thought, thoroughly satisfied as he sipped his lemonade.

The past was over and done with, and all that mattered was the future. Life was good.

* * *

AN: The end! Sadly, there will be no sequel. Someone wanted me to have Christine and Raoul show up for a huge smackdown/confrontation, but it's already been to the point of becoming a cliché. I guess you'll have to use your imaginations on what happens in Clara's and Erik's future. 


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